


The darkest Hour

by Silva_13



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Aidan and Dean once had been best friends...and more, Aidan whump, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Blood, Blood Loss, Bullying, Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, Crying, Dean Whump, Difficult Relationships, Drug-Induced Coma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Gen, Guilt, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, ICU, Insecurity, Intoxication, Isolation, Lots of Crying, M/M, Medical Procedures, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Past Suicide Attempt, Regret, Slow Build, Strained Friendships, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Temporary Character Death, Whump, at least indirectly, breathing arrest, cardiac arrest - Freeform, graphic description of suicide methods, hurt!Aidan, mentions of bullying at work, presuicidal syndrome, psychological strain, struggling!Aidan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-08 11:16:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 65,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6852445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silva_13/pseuds/Silva_13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After months of neglecting friends and family Aidan tries to make amends in an act of desperation. When he only receives refusal and anger in return his last bit of hope crumbles, leaving him empty and broken and leading him onto a dangerous path.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, after being a passive member of the fandom for years I decided to be a little more active. I have no idea how this happened, but this story suddenly popped up in my head one day and I had to write it down to get it out of my head and find some sleep.  
> This is the first story I've written in ages and the very first one in English, as that's not my first language.
> 
> This story takes place in the spring of 2015. I had to change some chronological details to fit my plot in, mainly Poldark had to air earlier and shooting Hillary hasn't started yet. 
> 
> I will add more tags with the upcoming chapters, so make sure you check them. 
> 
> A huge THANK YOU, hugs and kisses to **Mine135** who beta'd this. She may not be a native speaker as well, but she's brilliant and a lovely person.

Blue smoke swirled slowly through the cold air fading into the pale blue March sky. It was still chilly outside, but yet warm enough to let the sun rays warm the skin a bit. People might have said it was a beautiful day outside, but the dark figure on the patio would have disagreed. For Aidan Turner there were no beautiful days anymore. There were just a stringing together of empty episodes of daylight, lonely and cold, always with the underlying feeling of underachievement, dread and despair, only interrupted by the long dark hours of insomnia, brooding and fear.

 

The last weeks had been tormenting as hell, even more than filming Poldark had been. Fortunately he was finally done with doing press for the first season of the BBC series after weeks of tiring interviews and photoshoots, TV appearances and other PR appointments. It had worn him out as smiling and joking into the cameras, while he internally felt hollow and sad, had been really debilitating. The only questions which seemed to be interesting enough had been about his abs and if he was a sex symbol or not. Apparently no one was interested in the storyline, the person of Ross Poldark itself, let alone the actor behind the dark haired mine owner. No one had ever lost a word about his acting, all what seemed to matter had been that stupid scything scene.

 

After pulling through that horror with a masquerade of proud and joy he felt now even more empty and lonely than during the shooting of the show itself. And he had believed _that_ was the worst he had ever experienced. Why the hell had he signed that contract? He had asked himself the same question again and again within the last months.

 

Since the beginning of shooting everything had taken a turn for the worst. He had lost his family, his friends and his self-confidence. More than once he had asked himself if that role had been worth it. The answer to that question was a clear no.

 

He shook his head, stubbed out his cigarette and went back inside his house that he once had loved so much. He remembered the day he moved in years ago, so proud of being able to buy it from his own hard-earned money. That day was so bright in his memory, he had been there with his friends and brother, laughing and enjoying himself while moving countless boxes around. In the evening they had skyped Dean, so he could join them virtually from the other side of the world while getting ready for another day on the Johnsons set. He had carried the laptop through the entire house to show his best friend proudly around his new acquisition in North London. That had been back in those days when he still knew how to laugh….

_Well, I had still friends back then._

This mournful thought caused a familiar burning behind is eyes.

Believing he would feel better as soon as he had free time to catch up with all his ill-kept friends and family had been a huge self-delusion. He had thought that his usual confidence and strength would return with enough time lapsing after the shoot in Cornwall and everything would be alright again. But when he had realised how much time had passed since he had the last friendly contacts with someone who was dear to him, his intentions to call and apologise had crushed down on him. The fear of rejection after the long time of negligence had been just too big. The only person who he had contact with, more or less regularly, was his twin brother Liam and even that had decreased massively.

 

They had always been close, best friends and nearly inseparable. Aidan always had looked up to him. He had been the first person who supported his decision to become an actor and had encouraged him to hold on when things didn’t go the way they were supposed to. He literally had fallen all over himself when Aidan got the role as Kili.

 

Aidan always had imagined being with Liam when Rob Kazinsky was Fili back then. That had been unnecessary with Dean because the Kiwi had felt like a brother, too. Even more than that, Dean had been…just everything.

_No, you won’t start with THAT again!_

 

Now his brother and parents were gone. After months of strenuous efforts to get through to him, they eventually had given up on him and let him go. It had hurt so terribly, but he couldn’t allow for them to see what he had become. So weak with all his stupid problems. So anxious, not even capable of going to work without trouble. No, they would have been disappointed and ashamed of him.

 

Liam, however, had fought hard, for he wasn’t able to let him go. He had called countless times, always asking how he was, if he would come to their mother’s birthday in November or at least home for Christmas. Or when he’ll be in Ireland the next time, or if he could visit him in London or Cornwall. Aidan had been on the edge back then, always knackered, always scared, his motivation crumbling under the smallest exertion. He couldn’t muster the energy to deal with the family problems he had caused himself. But no angry answer, no lame excuse or annoyed yelling had made his twin brother leave him alone. Until the passing time and the constantly petulant answers Aidan gave had put him off eventually. It had shattered Aidan’s heart into pieces, but he had seen no other way.

 

Of course he had been neither home for his mother’s birthday nor for Christmas. He hadn’t even called to avoid questions and the inevitable reproaches. Instead he had just hidden away in his house, deeply ashamed of himself, heartbroken about his loss and at the same time self-loathing for what he had done.

 

The last contact he had had with his brother had been a voicemail, for Aidan hadn’t picked up the phone. Liam had required of him to move out of their shared apartment in Dublin, where they had lived in together since they finished school and started their own lives as adults. He had not called back because he wasn’t able to stop crying for hours, curled up on the floor, so the message had kept being unanswered in the end.

 

In fact, it was only one bedroom Aidan occupied for years now. He had always slept and lived there whenever he was in Dublin. It had always been this way, ever since he had moved out for the first time in his life after getting a role in a London theatre.

 

The night after the message had been spent in front of the toilet, bent over the porcelain while he had emptied the contents of his stomach into the bowl… _again_.

 

Of course family hadn’t been the only thing Aidan had neglected thoroughly. His agent was furious as he had turned down every job offer he had received in the last months. He didn’t go to auditions anymore and had broken contacts with anybody else, he knew in the filming scene. He even dallied away the audition for Stephen King’s “The Stand”, the one he had planned to do together with Dean, so they could finally be in a movie together again.

 

Speaking of Dean….alone the thought of the blond Kiwi let Aidan’s eyes well up with tears. He had pushed him and the other cast-mates from the Hobbit away too. After snarling at him on the phone multiple times he had just let every call gone unanswered. He had done the same with Adam, Stephen, Graham and Jimmy, the hard core of the “little bastards”, also with Luke and even Russel.

 

It wasn’t that he had not wanted to speak with them. It was just that he hadn’t had the energy to do so and later he hadn’t had the energy to explain his behaviour. Probably they wouldn’t have understood his actions. Hell, he didn’t even understand them himself! So why should they forgive him? No, they would likely have told him to go to hell for good and that was something he wouldn’t have been able to bear. Calls and texts had been ignored for months now and with passing time everyone had given up on the quest of reaching him.

 

Being no longer on speaking terms with Dean had hurt most. He had missed him terribly every minute since the filming of The Hobbit was done. During shooting he had gotten so used to his “friend with benefits”, he had been hardly able to live through the separation after that, although they had sworn to stay friends and keep contact. And they did, even when time went by and both of them came up with proper ‘girlfriends’ to attend on premiers and occasional parties. Aidan never knew if Dean really loved his Sarah and he had been always a bit jealous that she could have him. Aidan and his own Sarah had separated one year ago, realising that it wasn’t _it_.

 

The lack of contact with Dean was immensely hard for him, though in the beginning of his “condition” he had thought it would be only temporary.

 

_Until I’m better_.

 

But with the progress of time he had realised that it was too late to just call and catch up. He had shoved all people who meant something to him away and he knew they would never forgive him. He also had ruined his career, so what was there to carry on for? He knew he couldn’t go on like that. He was a mess, a failure, a wreck. It seemed he couldn’t get better, couldn’t continue at all. Maybe it was better to put an end to all that.

 

Those thoughts had crept up more and more often during the last months. He couldn’t imagine anyone who would possibly miss him.

 

So he was still surprised at himself for accepting the invitation for recording extended interviews for the Special Extended Edition of “The Battle of the five Armies”. There were two weeks left until the event which should take place in a small film studio in Central London. All participating actors would be placed in a nearby hotel. It was meant to be a cheerful event, a reunion of the company. Without any doubt it would be a huge party event, full of laughter, jokes and drinks. Aidan knew that Dean would be there too. So he had accepted without thinking, as they hadn’t seen each other in person in over a year. Later it had became clear to him that Dean wouldn’t want to see him at all. All of them wouldn’t! They would kick him out as soon as he would enter the hotel.

 

But although the thought of being with his cast-mates scared the crap out of him, Aidan had to go. He just needed to see him.

 

_One last time!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge THANK YOU to all who read, commented and left kudos! I really appreciate that!

He wasn’t even able to say when all this had begun. Before shooting Poldark he had been fine, that’s all he knew. Aidan was used to deliver good work, _amazing_ work when he believed his former employers.

 

So when Ed Bazalgette, the director, had started to scold him on a daily basis for small things, he had been a little taken aback but had not thought too much of it in the first place. But then it had slowly increased. One day his face wouldn’t have the right impression or his voice would be too high pitched for an exasperated or excited Ross. His hair would be a mess, his kisses too loud or his body language wrong and in the end he had been a bad choice at all, according to Ed.  Aidan had tried the best he could to satisfy the ambitious director, spending night and day working on his acting.

 

Later, when everything he did wasn’t right anymore and he was being mocked or even annihilated for his performance, he had slowly developed sleep disturbances and lost his appetite. What on earth had he done to Ed that he behaved this way? Was his work really that disappointing? Was it something else? Did he do something, said something wrong? Maybe the director had preferred another actor and the production company had insisted on him?

 

The humiliation had accelerated with time and when Aidan had started to blunder more often due to his growing nervousness, even some of his Co-stars had joined in the procedure. Every mistake he made was blown out of proportions, and he made lots of them, a thing he couldn’t quite explain. He had never been so inexpert in his life before, especially not at work.

 

Often he had learned a script and during shooting he was shouted at because he had used the wrong lines. When he checked later, it turned out that he indeed had been wrong, although he had been sure the lines were different the evening before.

 

One day, after a break, he had put his costume coat on and there had been a huge gash in it which hadn’t been there before. Since there wasn’t a replacement, Ross had to go without his coat, but Aidan had earned a lot of yelling for that. It had not been different when one day the tricorn was suddenly missing. 

 

Confused and embarrassed he had started to seclude himself, avoiding the curious glances people now shot at him.  After a while he hadn’t been invited for dinners or parties anymore and sat alone during lunch breaks, only to find some cockroaches in his food one day.

 

It escalated when he got suspended from set for two days because he had ruined an entire shooting day whilst he apparently had learned not only a few wrong lines, but a completely different script. When he had gone to his trailer to find said script to proof that he had in fact received that exact version, it had been nowhere to be found, although he knew it had been on the table before. The director’s reaction had been terrible, he had termed Aidan as inept and stupid and promised to replace him after that incident. He still remembered Ed’s shouting in front of all the people and how embarrassed and incompetent he had felt. How in the world could he ever look people in the eyes again? That was the day when he threw up for the first time out of emotional turmoil.

 

But Aidan hadn’t been replaced. Although he barely dared to show up on set after that incident, the torture had continued. Until today he often asked himself why he had been cast at all and why he hadn’t been replaced when it had turned out that he seemingly wasn’t what they were looking for. Instead they had stuck with him, but the atmosphere on set had been poisoned and he had never felt more out of place.

 

Only Seamus, the Irish Horse, was nice to him. Well, and the girls, Eleanor and Heida, to be fair. They had remained nice, sometimes sat with him during breaks and tried to involve him in conversations. But he had become more and more withdrawn, so they hadn’t had a chance to get through to him. Of course he had started to isolate himself from the rest of the cast, believing he was unwanted and disliked.

 

But what had led to this dilemma in the first place? He had always assumed that he had had bad luck with the situation, but with time it dawned to him that he himself must have been the problem. Maybe his attitude or behaviour? He often had made little jokes about other people, but never meant any offense. Maybe that was the reason why it all went to shit?

_Because_ I _am the problem._

 

Maybe he had said something stupid? Or had done something inappropriate? Maybe insulted anyone unintendedly? 

 

Soon he had lain awake in the early morning hours, dreading to go to work, only to return in the evening to curl up on the couch and shut the world out. That was the time when he had started to cloister himself away from people who were dear to him like his brother and Dean, planning to speak with them _when he was better_.

 

Especially Dean was avoided by him since the Kiwi was jobless at this time and clearly upset about it. Who was he – Aidan – to complain about some little frictions on set, while his best friend and former lover didn’t have a job at all? So he had remained silent and in the end missed to tell anyone at all.

 

When Aidan eventually noticed something was clearly wrong with him, his descend had been way too far. It had started with a loss of energy, even in his free time. Calling his family or friends turned into an unbearable burden, especially as he had to hide his predicament from them. Everything was just too much. He couldn’t concentrate anymore, couldn’t tell apart important from unimportant, let alone overcome his inner barriers of isolation. Over the months it had continued and even worsened, turning him into the mess he was right now.

 

He hadn’t slept one night through in weeks and could barely get up in the mornings. His motivation to do things had gone to zero, he even had quitted sports and playing the guitar. He felt either on the verge of tears or numb and hollow, unable to do even those easy things like getting out of bed or call someone. He had lost his appetite and had developed severe stomach aches over the time. Painful cramps, which often came when he was distressed. Sometimes it was so bad that he couldn’t eat at all or even had to throw up. The feeling of dread had enhanced into a constantly underlying fear of rejection and failure. It was no wonder when his first panic attack had hit him when he was about to leave the house for work one day. O _f course_ he had been late and _of course_ he got in trouble because of that.

 

The treacherous hope of feeling better once filming was done had shattered when the press work had started. It was impossible for him to avoid it, everyone would have known immediately. So Aidan dragged himself through the United Kingdom and later through the United States and gave interview after interview, always playing along, laughing, joking and flirting. It was strenuous to talk about something positively when, in reality, it kept you awake at night and made you vomit. The reactions to the series itself didn’t help either. If Aidan had known that one half-naked scene could make you that famous he would have worked out more often before that Fruice advertisement back then.

 

It was not only the fact that his work was reduced down to a stupid scything scene with naked upper body. No, what made him really upset was that, all of a sudden, cast and director were full of praising words about him and his _magnificent_ acting.

_Am I only worth it when the ratings are high enough?_

 

However, after finishing the tormenting press work Aidan had returned to his house in London, not daring to show up in Dublin or Clondalkin, let alone Auckland. It had been too late to fix his relationships with family and friends. After months of neglect and constant ignoring he had been sure that nothing could be done about it anymore. The grief and guilt had almost eaten him alive. He was sure that no one would ever have him back, no one would ever be ready to forgive him.

 

And so he had spent his days in isolation and self-accusation, only existing, not being. An empty shell of a once vibrant soul.


	3. Chapter 3

The uneasy sense of imminence which had plagued him all night increased to a feeling of outright terror when the taxi stopped in front of the hotel Peter had chosen for the Hobbit cast to stay at during the interviews. He stared out of the window. A lump was already forming in his throat and his stomach lurched, leaving him queasy **.** How was he supposed to do this? To stay with his former friends at the same hotel while pretending to debauch in old memories of the good old Hobbit days although there was no one left to be his friend? To retell stories about camaraderie even though that was all gone now?

 

How would they even react to see him? He had done everything to cease the contact to all of them, was there any chance to salve the relationships he destroyed beyond repair during the last months?

 

“Would you like to get out or shall we just drive back to your home?” the taxi driver asked exasperatedly.

 

“Huh? Oh…sure. Sorry!”

 

Aidan fumbled with his purse, paid the man and hurried out of the car. He almost forgot his suitcase in the trunk but managed to get it out just in time before the annoyed driver could rush away. He turned and looked up to the high building with the glass fronts which towered threateningly in front of him.

 

_They’ll be in there._

 

His heart pounded rapidly when he climbed the stairs and opened the door with clammy hands. He also noticed that his breaths came shorter with a familiar hitch at the end of each exhale. The increasing nausea when his stomach churned even more brought him to the verge of throwing up.

 

_Oh please, not now!_

 

If he wasn’t able to control the upcoming panic attack, he was going to be sick right in front of the hotel doors. Or he might break into tears in public…or both.

 

He stopped in front of the entrance, trying to take deep breaths and concentrating on his role. It was impossible to show anyone what a nervous wreck he had become. Too long he had hidden that part of him behind a wall of toothy smiles, fake laughter and a façade of self-confidence and professional radiance in public on the one hand and an annoyed, dismissive attitude towards his family and friends on the other. The only way to survive the next days was to play that role in perfection, although all he really wanted to do was to curl up in bed and hide.

 

He knew to play that role would also inhibit the reconciliation with the other cast members. No one wanted to have to do anything with a conceited, arrogant twat, who took himself too seriously. And there was no chance the others would think of him any different.

 

So how could they ever forgive him without learning the truth? But being honest would mean to strip down all the layers of protection he had put on during the last months, leaving him bare and naked for his friends to condemn him. Maybe he should just take to his heels. But this was his last chance if he wanted to smooth over the cracks. Otherwise the reasons to carry on would be reduced to a minimum, he would be irretrievable lost.

 

His thoughts had taken that dark path again without him even noticing. In the last weeks it had happened frequently that his mind was consumed with the thoughts of utterly devastation and the unbearable fear of being all alone. It had become more and more difficult to push these thoughts away. On the contrary, now he caught himself more often thinking of how to end things, longing for peace and rest.

 

Before his mind could travel any further, he pushed himself back to here and now. He was still standing in front of the hotel, the door handle in his hand. His breathing had calmed and his stomach was quiet for now. Thank god, a panic attack in public would definitely not help him with his predicament. He took another shaky breath and entered the glass building.

 

~~~                                                                                                                        

 

He had just checked in with trembling fingers when he spotted a familiar figure making their way in direction of the hotel bar. Adam was heading towards another man, tall and bald with a grey beard, Graham. Together they left in direction of the bar where the rest of the cast probably awaited them. Aidan’s heart jumped at the sight. He wanted to shout out, to wave and to hug them. But that was impossible. He had rejected Adams efforts of making contact and going out with him in the city of London more than once. He had snarled, even shouted once. He also had ignored Graham’s birthday invitation, hadn’t even texted. There was no chance they would want to see him right now.

 

And so he decided to go to his room firstly to make up his mind what to do next.

 

~~~

 

The breaking news had already reached Dean not even two minutes after Aidan had entered the hotel. Of course Adam had spotted him, avoiding contact because of the harsh words the brunet had last said to him months ago. Despite his repulsive behaviour Graham had invited the brunet for his birthday in January, without even receiving an answer, let alone a congratulation text.  

 

“He looked a little pale and he’s much thinner than the last time I saw him, which is almost nine months ago”, Adam blurted out, always in for some gossip.

 

“I give a shit about his looks, may he starve to death for this goddammit role! I don’t want to see him. What is he doing here anyway? He’s not interested in hanging out with us anymore, so why did he show up at all?”

 

The Kiwi had tried his best to stay calm after learning that the Irishman would be there, too. He didn’t want to take his bitterness out to his friends, but it was so difficult to remain calm when his past haunted him now.

 

And the past had been rough, indeed. After being best friends on set and “friends with benefits” in private for almost two years of shooting The Hobbit, reality had hit them hard when filming had ended. Knowing they would spend their entire time half a world apart the two men had decided that it would be best to just stay friends. It had been a mutual decision, but Dean had never admitted how he truly felt about Aidan. How could he have told him that he had more feelings than friendship and sexual attraction for him?

 

But their friendship had been working out quite well nevertheless. They had emailed, skyped and talked over the phone at least 2 times a month. Texting was even more frequently since it was independent of time zones. They were talking about recent film offers, family, their daily routine and what not. There had always been this casual understanding the both of them had for each other, that knowledge what the other was thinking at the moment. Being friends had been so much fun, appreciation and affection, it had really felt as if Aidan was the other half of his soul.

 

Of course the two of them had missed each other during the long months of being apart. They even had auditioned for the same films, hoping there would be a chance of being cast together again. But so far they had not been successful.

 

Later, when premieres and press for The Hobbit had approached, they had shown up with their girlfriends, which ironically carried the same forename. Dean couldn’t speak for Aidan, but Sarah had always been an excuse for him, a distraction from what he really wanted.

 

They had had the time of their lives giving interviews and attending conventions. In between the premieres, they managed to visit each other on shooting locations discreetly, not too keen to show their deep attachment publicly. Not that they weren’t proud of the bond they had built. It was just that it was private, a treasure. Something only the two of them shared.

 

Dean would have never doubted Aidan’s friendship until the point the brunet had earned the lead in this new BBC series, Poldark, or something like that. As always, when an interesting offer came in, they had talked about it. The Kiwi remembered the excited Irishman, bouncing up and down in his desk chair while they skyped during the late European night hours while the Kiwi had set on his porch in the New Zealand afternoon sun.

 

_Do you think I can do that? My mam said I shouldn’t mess this one up!_

 

Aidan had always had an ear for his advice. And he had encouraged him to sign the contract, although there was the tiniest bit of jealousy since he was jobless at this time. Oh, how he regretted his words now!

 

After filming had started, Aidan had changed. He had been distant and taciturn during their conversations. It had seemed he was not listening and he had always appeared distressed and annoyed. Their contact had become seldom and short over time. Aidan often had had excuses for not to call, not to visit. Dean even had wanted to visit his friend in Cornwall, but Aidan had turned him down.

 

Furthermore the brunet had stopped to show any interest in the Kiwi’s work, his photography and art, even his film projects.

 

During one call, which went downright bad, Dean had told his friend about the audition for the role of Kirk Douglas in Trumbo. Being so proud to be cast, he wanted to hear what Aidan had to say about that, but the brunet had only hummed tiredly and didn’t add anything useful to the conversation.

 

The bomb had burst when Dean had asked about the audition for Stephen King’s “the stand”, another project they had tried to do together. Dean had sent his audition video a week ago, while Aidan hadn’t even made a fitting tape with his agent.

 

_"I really don’t have the time for that stupid bullshit!”_

 

They had ended up shouting over the phone. In the end Dean had ended the call and didn’t call again. Aidan hadn’t either.  

 

Of course the Kiwi had felt rejected. It had broken his heart, but if he wasn’t welcome anymore in Aidan’s life he didn’t want to intrude. So he had stopped calling and skyping. There were only a few short texts he had sent to the brunet, telling him about the shooting in New Orleans. All of them had kept unanswered.  

 

It had hurt, _a lot._ The blond had felt betrayed and abandoned by his best friend and secret love. Over the weeks he received messages from his other friends, who all told the same story: Aidan was not interested in keeping in touch anymore, he had _“something better to do”_.

 

There had been only one reasonable explanation. The change had come with getting that lead role as Ross Poldark. He had seen him in talkshows, Q&A’s and other PR events. He was as cheerful as ever, laughing, joking and being adorable in front of the camera.  So his first idea, that something might be wrong with Aidan, had proven wrong. Today he laughed about himself for assuming Aidan could be not well, could even have some serious problems. But after seeing him doing press, he had learned the truth.

 

Aidan had just moved on. With the success, a Hollywood career lying at his feet, he had forgotten about his friends. That was nothing new in the film industry, people changed with their success. But that it happened to him and his best friend, one of the most grounded and modest persons he ever knew, filled him with disappointment and bitterness. How could he have been so wrong about Aidan?

 

Dean felt a bit guilty for having stalked the Irishman so badly, but he just had needed to know. The thought of being rejected because he didn’t fit in the career plans of his friend had hurt like hell, but it was not the worst.

 

The worst was discovered by the Kiwi over the months of radio silence. Slowly but surely it came to his mind that he wasn’t able to have a life without his Aidan, that his feeling for him went far beyond friendship and attraction. He missed him badly, as a friend, as a lover, as a colleague. He had lain awake during the night, asking himself all over again what he had done wrong. Why Aidan thought he wasn’t worth his friendship, his love, his appearance in the brunet’s life.

 

There had been a lot of tears when Dean realised that he was hopeless in love with that piece of shit. The breaking up with Sarah had been inevitable at this point, she had moved out and Dean had tried to move on.

 

When the invitation for the last interviews for the Special Extended Edition came, he hadn’t hesitated to accept. All the people who were important for him would be there: Adam, Graham, Stephen, Luke, Jed, Jimmy and Richard. Of course there would be others too, but they were the most beloved ones, well apart from that certain other one. He had never thought that Aidan would attend until two minutes ago, when an excited Adam had entered the bar.

 

“Guess, who I saw in front of the reception desk?”     

_~~~_

 

While Dean’s mind was running in circles as he was surrounded by his friends, Aidan wrecked his brain about what to do next. After arriving in his room he had needed a few minutes to calm down, taking deep breaths and concentrating on the walls he had built around himself carefully. Now, after washing his face with ice-cold water and pacing across the room several times, he finally made his decision to go down and face his colleagues.

 

He took the stairs, heart thrumming in his chest, and walked slowly down to the ground level. With every step he felt more and more uneasy, the nausea increased again, his chest and throat felt tight and his hands started to get sweaty. He forced himself to breathe deeply as he couldn’t afford another panic attack.

 

When he arrived in front of the hotel bar he peeked through the glass doors. He immediately spotted Dean sitting in the group of his cast-mates, listening intently to something Luke was telling him. He wanted to enter, but something held him back.

_They’re going to be so mad._

 

Dean couldn’t see him from his sitting position, but Aidan had quite a good view of him. He watched his favourite Kiwi for a while, seeing with delight as his dimples showed while he was laughing and joking. His hair had grown longer and he had cut off the bushy full beard he had grown out recently according to his Instagram pictures. Now he had a five-days-stubble, _exactly_ how Aidan loved it.

 

Without him noticing tears had welled up in his eyes. He always had thought about Dean as handsome, but when had he become so beautiful? Now that he saw his Kiwi in front of him personally, he realised what he had lost. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he lifted his hand and slowly put it against the glass door without pressure and yearned from afar.

 

The blond looked so content, happy and alive right now, he didn’t look like something was missing. Dean won’t ever let him back in his life, won’t ever forgive him his recent behaviour. Now that he could see him surrounded by his friends, he knew that he was no longer welcome in their middle. A feeling of defeat settled deep in his heart along with sadness and grief.

 

It became even worse when he suddenly realised that Dean didn’t need him at all, didn’t want him. He was lucky as he was there, he didn’t need a false friend who had let him fall like a hot potato. The Kiwi didn’t need anybody who wasn’t worth his friendship, he only deserved best. There was no room for him in Dean’s life, which meant, there was no room for him in this world.

 

He wanted to turn around and run away, to check out and drive back home, as suddenly a deep voice snapped him out of his musings.

 

“Aidan, you came? I had never thought you would be interested!”

 

The Irishman turned around and saw Richard walking towards the glass doors. The tall Brit smiled politely, but there was no warmth in his eyes, as there would be normally. There wasn’t a hug either, only a stiff handshake.

 

“Well, yeah…I’m obviously more interested than you think.”

 

Aidan gave him a shaky smile and hoped he didn’t sound half as anxious as he felt.

 

“That’s good. I heard you did quite well in the last months. Congratulations!”

 

Oh Richard! Always so polite and friendly, no matter what he felt inside he would never show any resentment openly to a colleague. A true professional he was.

 

“Yeah…uhm…thanks…I guess I was lucky?”

 

The Brit just nodded quickly and turned to the bar entrance. When he entered through the doors, Aidan didn’t move until the tall brunet asked in a stern voice “are you coming or just staring?”

 

The Irishman hesitated. When even the kindest man he ever met wouldn’t have him, how could he enter that room? How could he bear with Jimmy’s sarcasm, with Jed’s cynicism? How could he ever stand against Dean’s wrath?

 

He swallowed around the lump in his throat and entered the room slowly, hoping that the ground would just swallow him alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still feel bad for making Dean and Sarah break up, but there was no other way. In my defence, I wrote this chapter last summer, before the wedding! ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for **FiliKiliThorinForever** because it's her birthday today (at least it's still in my time zone). HAPPY BIRTHDAY!  <3

The happy chatter immediately got louder when Richard entered the bar and greeted his friends sincerely. After two minutes of hugging and shoulder clapping everyone sat on their chairs again. 

The laughing voices suddenly broke off when the group spotted the dark haired man who had entered the bar as well. He stood a few feet offside, back straightened and a bright smile on his lips. He just could not let them see that he was almost dying of fright right now. And if looks could kill, he would have been dead as soon as they had discovered him. His heart raced like mad, his mouth was dry and it felt as if their dark looks were about to burn his skin.

There was only one way to get through that awkward silence. He had to keep his walls strong around him and let nobody see behind his put on self-confidence. He just needed to act like in the many press events concerning Poldark.

_Smile and wave, boy. Just smile and wave!_

After brightening his smile and knocking on the table to greet his colleagues he casually asked “Hey guys, it’s been a long time! How’s everyone?” as if it was the most normal thing in the world. The question was answered with icy silence and even more black looks while he sat down.

He swallowed dryly and locked eyes with every one of them, one after another, for he knew that looking down would give his insecurity away. In every single pair of eyes he saw indifference and even disdain. That was all, they had left for him. 

When his eyes met a special ocean blue pair he thought his heart might stop instantly, but it didn’t. Instead it increased its pounding even more, making him feel week and dizzy. Dean didn’t look away, he only raised his eyebrows and gave Aidan a stone-cold glance which said enough. It said _“Fuck off!!!”_

Luke suddenly seemed to pull himself together and remember his manners. He knocked on the table as well and greeted the Irishman with a smile.

“Aid, it’s been indeed a long time. How are you? We didn’t count on you to come, to be honest. But it’s good to see you!”

After that Jed and Jimmy said similar things, giving him their best “I’m pissed off, but I don’t show it” looks, as did Stephen, Graham and even Adam. The only person who – justifiably - didn’t say anything at all was Dean.

Aidan did his best to play along although his heart clenched. That was exactly how he had been treated on Poldark set at the end of filming. But who could hold it against them? He was the one who had turned them down, who had spitted on their efforts to get through to him and keep the friendship running.

He didn’t deserve kindness, let alone forgiveness. He should be thankful for the politeness he received. After all they all were professionals, weren’t they? 

Adam, who had always been nervous in tensed situations and loved harmony above even the slightest hint of a conflict, picked up on the former conversation, releasing Aidan unknowingly from the awkward situation.

“Deano, tell us more about your new photo project! What is it about?”

So Dean had a new project and hadn’t asked him to take part in it. What else was there to say? They had all continued with their lives, their careers and with being friends. Aidan instead had left them on the road somewhere between some bug-ruined food and a wrong script he had received.

He was deeply wounded by the rejection, although he desperately tried to act distant and cool to hide his hurt. He knew all of this was his fault, he was the person who had shoved all his friends – well, his former friends – away. Of course they had to come to the conclusion that his success as Ross Poldark must have changed him. That he didn’t care anymore. 

And now he was not welcome anymore, he sadly noticed. He couldn’t even blame anyone of them as he was the one to blame alone. He had trampled their friendship underfoot, had yelled at them and had been a dick. 

And why? Just because he had been too frightened anyone could realise that he was a failure, that he was weak and unable to perform as expected from him. How could he have told everybody who congratulated him to this damned role that his acting was too bad? That he delivered shitty work and that everyone was dissatisfied with him? They would have thought about him as unthankful and whiny. 

And now he had to earn the consequences of his false pride. His friends had moved on while Aidan had stayed behind, alone in the cold with a broken heart. 

His face hadn’t lost the bright smile during his musings. His eyes followed his chatting cast-mates and sometimes he laughed when something was supposed to be funny what he only recognised by the others breaking out into cheerful laughter. No one could have known that Aidan wasn’t listening to the conversation at all, but followed his downward spiral of dark thoughts until he was in full rumination mode, a state he could hardly leave once he reached it.

“You look quite pale, are you well?” Richard suddenly asked him with a frown on his face.

“Huh? What? Uhm…yeah…I’m fine, thank you!” 

The tall Brit nodded and turned his head in the other direction. Ok, maybe he couldn’t hide everything. 

In the end, he sat there for two more hours smiling, laughing and ignoring the questioned side glances he got from time to time. He didn’t say anything, as he just didn’t have the courage to add something to their conversation. The fear of being rejected was just too big.  
In return nobody asked him any more questions. He was tolerated in their middle but nothing more. Aidan considered himself lucky to be allowed to at least sit with them. 

“Tomorrow we start at nine, the studios are right around the corner. I’ve been there before, they have a nice atmosphere and a great catering,” Adam babbled happily.

“Maybe we should go then, I think our Kiwis are in desperate need of a nap!” Luke proposed.

One after another stood up and went to their hotel rooms while Aidan sat there lost and frightened. He had wanted to talk to Dean, but the blond was one of the first who had retired. If he wanted to speak with him he would have to wait until tomorrow, but the chance to catch him alone was close to zero. The only other chance he saw was to visit him in his hotel room, but he didn’t know where it was and maybe it would enrage Dean even more. Surely he wanted to have some sleep. It was only now that Aidan noticed how exhausted he was from the awkward meeting. He went in the directions of the elevators only to bump into Graham who waited in front of them. The Scotsman seemed pretty pissed and pierced Aidan with his gaze.

“If I see you close to Dean, I will show you where your place is! You caused him enough pain, so when I catch you near his room, I rip you into shreds!”

Aidan’s eyes widened and he nodded frantically, turning to take the stairs to his own room. When he arrived there he almost fell to the floor from dizziness. He was nauseous and the fear was all consuming, his heart jumped nearly out of his chest and his throat tightened once again. Graham’s words had shaken him to the core. 

They must hate him more than he had expected even in his worst dreams. His stomach was twisting painfully and his breaths came short again, he needed to hold onto the wall to keep himself upright. 

Walking along the wall he went to the bathroom to splash some cold water into his face. His reflection looked sweaty and pale, almost greenish. He tried desperately to hold back the unshed tears which had welled up in his eyes. 

Another wave of nausea hit him and he collapsed on the floor in front of the toilet right in time before he started to vomit violently into the bowl, tears finally streaming down his cheeks.


	5. Chapter 5

The corridors seemed to stretch into endlessness as he passed them to find Dean’s room. Fortunately, the friendly receptionist had happily told him the number without even thinking about the Kiwi possibly not being happy about unwanted visitors. He felt as if the fear was about to kill him. Luckily there wasn’t anything left in his stomach to be thrown up, so at least he didn’t have to worry about that.

Aidan had tried to prepare for the upcoming encounter with Dean. He had thought about the things he wanted to tell him, created entire dialogues with all the possible outcomes his mind came up with.

But when the door opened everything went in the completely different direction. 

“What?” the tired looking Kiwi asked exasperatedly after opening the door and realising who came by for a visit. Aidan’s mind went blank and his mouth suddenly felt as if it was filled with ash. Dean gave him that cold look with the raised eyebrows from before, leaning into the doorframe with crossed arms, blocking the entrance as he didn’t plan to let the Irishman in. 

When Aidan opened his mouth and shut it again several times Dean snarled:  
“You look like a fish out there, so do you actually have something to say or will you stay there until you grow gills?”

Taken aback from the blond’s angry attitude Aidan remained silent, just watching with growing fear what Dean might do next. He wanted to speak, wanted to tell him the truth, what had happened during the last months, why he had cut everybody out. That he missed him, that he loved him, always had loved him. But none of these thoughts left his mouth. The panic was about to overwhelm him and he wished again to be swallowed by the floor.

“You are ridiculous!” the Kiwi scoffed and started to close the door again.

“Please…wait”

“What?”

_I want to apologise for being such an arse!_

“I…uhm…I…I…I wanted to talk to you!”

“Oh? How come?” The cynical voice cut right in his heart.

_I wasn’t well in the last months, I felt useless and unworthy. That’s why I stopped bothering anyone._

“I haven’t had a lot of time during the last months, so…”

“Thought so, as there were no calls or texts. I’m sure you would have written if you just would have had the FUCKING TIME!” The last words were shouted and Aidan cringed visibly at the sound, heart pounding and chest aching.

“Deano, please!”

“Don’t call me that, that’s a nickname for close friends and you aren’t one of them anymore!”

That stung. Although he had known Dean wouldn’t have him anymore, the outspoken truth hit him hard.

 _I missed you so fucking much, I almost couldn’t bear it. I just didn’t have the courage to tell you everything!_

“Dean, look. I wanted to contact you, but there was so much…so much to do and I was tired…!”

“I noticed that! But do you know what? It’s no problem! Just keep out of my fucking way now!”

_Please don’t leave me, I can’t lose you! I don’t know how to carry on all alone! I’m so scared!_

“No, I mean…I mean…I really wanted to call you! I didn’t want to cut our contact down, it just…kinda happened.” He knew he had said the wrong thing when he saw the dangerous spark in the blue eyes.

“And yet you are thinking everybody would welcome you back because of your sheer presence? Your merciful appearance you gifted us with? The fuck we do!” 

_I only hoped someone can forgive me and I wouldn’t be so lonely anymore…so I could see a reason for hanging on!_

“I didn’t think there would be such a problem when someone is busy with work for some time. If I had known that all of you are so bitchy about it…”

“…then what, you would have called before?” Dean sneered.

_Then I wouldn’t have come here because everything is worse now than before. There’s only hurt instead of hope._

“Then I wouldn’t have come here in the first place, because it’s really annoying and childish!” 

He knew saying those words was dangerous and surely not helping. But he wasn’t able to think straight anymore, too big was the fear of giving his façade away. If someone broke through all his walls he was going to lose all of them for sure. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have! I think it might have been better for all of us.”

_It was the last chance I saw before giving up my life completely._

“It was an attempt to catch up again, but now I see I’m not welcome. Didn’t know you get kicked out if you didn’t fit in the usual pattern.”

“So you consider yourself as someone special?!?” Dean exclaimed in an accusing voice.

_The opposite, I’m actually very disappointing!_

“I just don’t see the problem you have! I don’t see any reason to be excluded or ‘stay out of your way’ as you stated it earlier!” He lifted his hands to signal quotation marks and rolled his eyes in an irritating manner.

“That’s something you should have thought about before! You can’t just go and let everybody down and then expect them right to be back on your demand! Maybe that works in your Poldark world but not here!”

_They hate me there. Even my family hates me…you are my last hope!_

“As if you were at home all the time, only waiting for me to call or show up! You were busy yourself!” 

Aidan’s panic seemed to eat him alive any moment now. He couldn’t cope with the overwhelming feeling of fright in his tightening chest. He didn’t know another way to protect himself as to lash out and attack his former best friend himself. Otherwise he would have had a mental breakdown right in front of the Kiwi.

Dean’s face was thunderous, a rare occasion, and Aidan regretted his words immediately. It was no surprise nobody wanted to have anything to do with him. 

“How DARE you to make any assumptions about my whereabouts in the last months? You were the one who broke contact, so DON’T! YOU! FUCKING! DARE!”

_I know a lot about your last month’s activities, seeing you on Instagram with Sarah all the time…I hated it._

Aidan opened his mouth to say something. He didn’t know what exactly, just anything to stop Dean from shouting. But the Kiwi was fuming, giving in to the wrath, he had bottled up during the last months.

“If I ever would have meant anything to you, you wouldn’t have dropped me like a hot potato, hence I came to a completely different conclusion!”

“You what?”

“Unlike you, I do think about the things happening around me. I draw conclusions and consequences. You only take things for granted and that’s quite poor. You use people as long as you need them and dismiss them afterwards.”

Aidan stood there, his jaw dropping. An ice-cold shiver ran down his spine, making him freeze.

 _That’s not true. I care, I really do!_

“Everything you ever said, about close friends and brothers, holding contact, ‘time of your life’ and so on, was just a pack of lies.” Now it was on Dean to mime quotation marks with his hands in a mocking way. “If you meant it, you would have fought for it. Instead you suddenly lost interest when you earned this job.”

“I don’t see your point.”

“We all were convenient when you were an infamous Irish bloke, who hit the jackpot with Kili. You had to move to the other side of the world and survive there with some company. You don’t need us anymore, now that you are a star, so why bother with us?”

“That is not true!”

“It is! Or do you have a better explanation?”

_I fucked up and now it’s too late..._

“I do, but I…it’s complicated!” Aidan sighed in defeat. 

“Do you have any idea how it feels to be the fifth wheel? Do you have any idea how it feels, when you learn that the guy you fucked for two years gave a shit about you? Or even worse: that the person you called your best friend just used you? Were you just in need of a cock?” 

_I never did! I love you so fucking much that I couldn’t tell you about my failing!_

“I didn’t! I don’t! I came here to talk to you and now you throw all this shit at me.”

The Kiwi suddenly started to laugh.

“Oh, now I should be grateful, that you wanted to talk to me? How could I've been so mistaken about you? Just leave, and don’t you ever dare talking to me again!” 

Aidan could only stare at the Kiwi, mouth agape. He wasn’t even able to stop him when he threw the door shut. Tears started to prickle in his eyes and he didn’t trust his voice anymore. Anyway, what was there left to say? 

Dean seemed to believe he had been only a fucking tool for Aidan, which wasn’t true. Not in the slightest! He had always loved him and still did. It was too late now to tell him, he wouldn’t have believed it anyway since he was convinced that Aidan had used him as a toy boy. It stung that his former best friend thought so low of him. 

He hung his head and lifted his arm to strangle a sob in the crook of his arm. It was a struggle to keep the tears at bay and to muffle the crying sounds on his way back to his room.

When he finally got there he collapsed on the floor, weeping bitterly about the loss of the only reason he went here in the first place. The only and last hope to be rehabilitated and loved again, to return back to his normal life. To explain himself, maybe even to be forgiven.

_I’m not worth it_

~~~

In the safety of his room Dean could finally allow himself to give in to the pain and sorrow he felt. As soon as he had slammed the door he had started to cry, letting himself fall onto the bed to stifle the sounds with the pillow so no one, especially not Aidan, could hear him.

How had it come so far? He had just started to adjust into his Aidan-less life after months of pondering about the Irishman’s reasons to break contact. He had spent countless sleepless nights of thinking and crying, missing him and –in the end– realising that he loved him and that he wouldn’t come back. 

Seeing him here had been like a punch in his stomach, especially as the brunet showed up as if nothing ever had happened and the sun was shining out of his fucking arse! He just didn’t get it. What had changed? Why was Aidan acting like a huge dick? He had never been such a self-centred, ignoring person. Usually his only concern had been the wellbeing of his friends and family. 

Dean remembered when Aidan had wrapped him in his jacket every day on set, for he had caught bronchitis while shooting the Mirkwood scenes, the “Mirkwood lung” they had called it. After feeling better he had noticed his friend’s unusual quiet appearance through the days of shooting the barrel scenes. He had been pale and hoarse. That had been topped with increasing coughing fits and sneezing. Aidan had declined the offer to leave set to rest, instead he had worked stoically through scene after scene in the icy water of Pelorus river for an entire week until he eventually collapsed on set due to a raging fever.

In the end Aidan had been bed-ridden for almost three weeks, not only with a terrible cold and sinusitis, but also with a severe bronchopneumonia. Of course he had refused to be admitted to hospital, as he had an inexplicable aversion against those. So Dean had ended up in Aidan’s little apartment in Wellington, changing cool cloths on the Irishman’s forehead and making sure he would take his antibiotics. 

The first days had been spent ensuring there were enough fresh tissues, feeding him soup and keeping him hydrated. Later, when Aidan had been better, they had curled up in bed together, endlessly watching films and series. Despite Aidan being so very sick it had been a quiet and comfortable time for the both of them, like living in a bubble, only the two of them. 

They had been great friends before, especially when it came to certain benefits. But after that they had become inseparable, spending every free minute together. They had formed some kind of mutual understanding which went far beyond their usual friendship. They had just worked as a unit, uncomplicated and smoothly. They were able to communicate without words, reading the other’s facial expression and knowing exactly what was going on in their head.

And they really meant it, when asked later in interviews, that the best thing about The Hobbit had been spending time with each other. Even after the decision to carry on with life and stay just friends without any sexual intercourses, they had just worked out. 

_As if we were meant to be._

Dean couldn’t believe that the same person he had shared everything with was gone now. But Aidan had just shown him how uncaring he had become and that had enraged the Kiwi infinitely. After months of rejecting Aidan wanted to have contact again? After shouting at him on the phone and calling his plans “bullshit”, after all this disinterest? He hadn’t been good enough for the Irishman during the last months, he had made it pretty clear that he thought the Kiwi unworthy of his friendship. It had hurt terribly to be expelled like this. 

During the first weeks Dean had thought Aidan was only busy. But when he grew more and more withdrawn it had felt like rejection. That had been when he realised that he needed his Irishman more than everything, that there were feelings beyond friendship and sexual preferences. He had been so disappointed and hurt, had cried a lot and even went to his family with these problems. While his brother had had quite an obliterating opinion about Aidan, his parents had defended him. They considered even psychological problems as a reason for his behaviour. 

Dean snorted.

_Psychological problems, bullshit!_

Aidan may have had his insecurities sometimes, a fact hardly anyone knew, but psychological problems? Surely not! He had a problem with a too big ego now, that’s for sure, but anything beside that? No! 

While pondering the Kiwi lay on his bed, still sobbing into the pillow. There wouldn’t be any forgiveness for the Irishman, come what may.

~~~

After his tears had dried and the panic of being alone and outcast had subsided Aidan lay on the floor in his dark room and ruminated again. Was living this life still worth it? Was there anything what made it worth? He had done this a lot during the last months, mostly comforting himself with the promise of getting better when Poldark was over. 

But when his questions had been answered with a clear ‘no’ one day two months ago, he had done the only thing what he thought would end all his problems in one strike….and had failed.

Now that he thought about it again, he could only see downs. There weren’t any ups left. The questions he asked himself were replied with a wary ‘no’ again. When his thoughts drifted automatically to all the preparations he had done over the last weeks, his heart filled with fear again.

Unlike usual, it was not the fear of being left alone, repudiated or unwanted. No, now it was the fear of failing again.


	6. Chapter 6

The jarring alarm tone went off, shaking Aidan out of the light slumber he had fallen in during the early morning hours. After pressing the snooze button he turned around with a groan. Another sleepless night full of ruminating and worrying lay behind him, only interrupted by occasional crying fits. His body felt so heavy, even moving a single finger required a major effort. 

Since he was familiar with this condition by now he didn’t even try to get out of bed. Actually, he would do everybody a favour by not showing up. All he wanted was to head back home, lick his wounds and forget what happened. He wished he would have chosen to stay at his house during the interviews, hiding away would have been much easier that way. But instead he had decided that staying in the same hotel as his colleagues would probably increase his chances for reconciliation. Besides, the trouble of getting up in the morning would have made it impossible to be at the studio in time. 

But now after things had gone even more south he regretted coming here in the first place. There wasn’t any reason to get up anyway. His colleagues didn’t want to see him, even disdained him, and he didn’t want to impose on them. They were enjoying each other’s company, how could he destroy that by intruding? Hiding away from the world and its cruelties would be the best. Maybe he could just stay under the covers until the world had forgotten him? 

~~~

In the end it took him more than two hours to finally get out of bed. Having breakfast was out of question because of the nauseating anxiety bubbling deep inside of him.   
He watched his pale and tired face in the mirror, saw the dark circles under his eyes, the hollow cheeks and felt suddenly the urge to spit on his reflection.

_Despicable!_

Aidan climbed into the shower and turned the water on, but couldn’t even relax under the hot spray. The thoughts of last night still haunted him, he wasn’t able to get his mind off the words Graham and Dean had said and off his cast-mates' reactions his appearance had caused. The dread of the upcoming day rose in his stomach, making it lurch again.

How could he go to the studio today, working together in confined space with people who didn’t want him near them? What use would his appearance on this fucking DVD have, as he was only a shadow of himself anymore? Like a ghost, empty and insubstantial. What anecdotes should he tell in front of the camera when each of them moved him to tears? 

How he had gotten lost for hours with Dean in New Zealand’s countryside or how he had gone sky diving with Jimmy, although they weren’t supposed to according to their contracts? How Orlando Bloom had crushed the scene in the dungeons of the woodland realm wearing a party hat or Martin Freeman had tried desperately to mount his pony and failed? Each of these stories would have left him laughing a year ago, but now all he felt while remembering was pain and loss.

He could already imagine the glances he would receive from the other actors once he will have arrived at the studio, probing and so very disappointed, some of them certainly contemptuous, too. They would chat around, joking and giggling, while he would be left out.

The image settled in his mind, causing his breath to come short again and catch eventually. Aidan could feel his heartbeat sped up as a tingling sensation ran over his skin. He tried desperately to suck air in his lungs but seemed to fail. A wave of panic shot through the Irishman when he felt his chest tightening. His ears rang and there were tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. It felt as if someone squeezed his throat with their hands, black spots formed in front of his eyes and the world started to spin. Leaning against the wall he slid down to the bottom of the shower cabinet, drawing his knees to the chest, face buried in his arms.

He had no idea how long he sat there, curled into a ball, half choking, half sobbing and clutching at his arms. But the desperate attempt to draw deep breaths finally worked out and the symptoms subsided slowly. Still perched in the shower cabin Aidan felt the aftermaths of the panic attack, the bone-deep weakness and the familiar nausea, but in the end he was able to get out of the shower and got dressed without further incident. Fortunately, he had set his alarm early enough, as he was familiar with those matinal issues.

~~~

Working with the others in the studio was worse than expected. Aidan was ignored by his former friends, even Adam didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Adam, who would never even harm a fly, the last person on earth who would speak ill about others!

When he finally arrived he could instantly feel the atmosphere shifting in the room. The cheerful chatter of his colleagues died down as soon as he came through the door. Everyone was staring at him, but after a few seconds they looked away and continued their previous conversations. But Aidan could feel the suddenly strained ambiance, it felt as if the temperature had dropped a few degrees and he saw the tension in the faces of the other actors. He greeted them friendly and got stiff nods back, Dean didn’t even react at all.

_Of course not, I wouldn’t greet myself in his place!_

Taken aback with the cold reaction of his cast-mates he couldn’t bring up the courage to speak to anyone. They had been polite the day before, but as he hadn’t put any effort in making things better they just had enough of him now.

The day went on and he felt more and more uneasy. Although he was used to being outcast from the Poldark set, it was a completely different situation now. The people here used to be his friends. He had shared joy and laughter with them, but also exertion, pain and doubt. Hell, they had lived and worked together for almost two years, he would kill for each and every one of them! But now all he was receiving was anger, disappointment and revulsion. The worst thing was that he knew he deserved it. He had abandoned all of them and hurt them by doing so. 

Lunch was a quiet affair for him. He sat with the others but had never felt so lonely in his entire life. The meal was probably good, but for him it tasted like cardboard and felt like Styrofoam. He was barely able to get (and keep) anything down, shoving the food around on his plate rather than eating. He got some suspicious looks from Stephen, but that was it.

The afternoon was the same, the hours stretched into endlessness. Worst of all were the laughter and joy the others shared with each other, chatting happily and taking photos. It hurt, as he wanted to be a part of it so badly, but couldn’t. Even the very idea of their reaction if he joined them let his heartbeat speed up in anxiety. 

Hence he was relieved that the interviews itself were in single rooms. He was sure, he couldn’t have endured an interview with one of his colleagues, let alone Dean, squeezed in a small room pretending he was a ball of energy and sunshine.

In the evening everybody prepared to get back to the hotel, discussing which pub should be visited that night. When they went down the stairs Aidan was the last in row, making sure there was enough space between him and the second last one, Jimmy. 

Suddenly Jimmy turned to him with an indefinable facial expression.

“You do know that you can’t come with us, right?”

Aidan didn’t know how to respond. Of course he had yearned to go with his cast-mates in hope he might be able to sooth the mood over a couple of beers, but deep inside he had known that he was unwanted. Therefore the younger Irishman only shrugged.

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s not the best idea, you know? Actually, we are pretty mad at you, to be honest. You let all of us down and yet you showed up here as if nothing had happened without any explanation. We want to have some fun and you would probably ruin the mood just with your presence. People don’t take it well, when they are turned down by friends.”

Jimmy looked at him expectantly, clearly hoping to receive an answer what would finally explain the issue, but it never came. The slim hope for Aidan talking to him faded.

Aidan instead felt his heart shatter at those words, his chest was dangerously tight and the familiar burn in his eyes and cheeks lingered in the background. Of course, Jimmy hadn’t said anything new to him, but hearing the truth was much more painful than just knowing it.

“Ok, ok. Got it! See ya tomorrow then.”

He waited until Jimmy had turned around again and continued to walk down the stairs. Aidan followed with a bigger distance, shoulders sagged and head hanging. It didn’t even occur to him that his friend had only tried to help. 

It took all the strength he could gather, but in the end he managed to get back to his room without shedding a tear. But as soon as he stepped inside the dam broke.


	7. Chapter 7

Aidan had lain awake since about three in the morning, a shaking and crying mess after some kind of nightmare he had had. Before that he had slumbered restlessly for a few hours. How he had managed to find some sleep at all was a mystery to him.

~~~

The crying Irishman collapsed right behind the door after reaching the safety of his room, Jimmy’s words still in his ears. He was so worn out that he had to crawl into his bed on all fours. 

After crying his eyes out for what felt like hours, he eventually managed to get to the bathroom, where he washed off the salty tear-streaks and the snot covering his face. He didn’t have the energy to shower and so he just dragged himself back to bed. The brunet buried himself deeply into the sheets and groaned painfully, when the first stomach cramp befell him. Of course this had to happen now! There was no emotional hurt without a bellyache, that’s for sure.

As the intense crying fit from before had somewhat leached out all his remaining energy, he couldn’t even get up to fix himself a hot water bottle. He knew his stomachache was only an expression of the emotional mess he was, but that knowledge didn’t help at all with the pain itself. 

It was still early evening, but Aidan decided that staying in bed for the rest of the night would be best, and all he was capable of, by the way. His mind running at full speed didn’t do his stomach any good, the cramps increased and he felt like throwing up again. 

And so it came that, while his former friends were having fun at the pub, Aidan lay in his bed, convulsing in pain, physically and emotionally. The brunet knew he might be the biggest issue the other actors were talking about. He imagined the scornful words they would say about him, the cruel jokes they might crack. The worst was the mental picture of Dean, eyes flashing with hatred and scathing words coming out of his mouth. 

In his agony he felt like a pathetic whiner, once again, wishing all of this might finally end. And, once again, his mind wandered to the kitchen cabinet in his house in North London.  
Once again he balanced his opportunities, trying to answer the always lingering question about his value. 

Somehow he managed to fall asleep around midnight, twisting and turning restlessly, haunted by his own demons, only to wake up good three hours later, dreading the upcoming day.

~~~

In the morning Aidan dragged himself to the studio, anxiety bubbling in his chest along with the always present nausea. He had just spent half an hour kneeling in front of the toilet, retching violently into the bowl, but felt even worse after that. 

With his heart pounding and mind rushing he entered the studio. The atmosphere didn’t shift this time, actually nothing happened at all. Absolutely nothing, as the Irishman was cut by the others, his friendly greeting went completely unanswered. A tingly sensation ran over his scalp and back, giving him goose-bumps and he broke into a cold sweat. 

_Now I fucked up completely._

He stood there, frozen in the entrance, contemplating about leaving immediately or staying with the option of being killed by dark looks.

Somehow he survived until noon without getting into anybody’s hair, but leaving for lunch with his colleagues was no option at all. Thus Aidan stayed behind in the studio while all the others were leaving. 

It was not until now that he noticed that he had received a voicemail. He hesitated to open it, in fear it might be his family complaining about him or demanding a visit. Maybe it was even his angry agent, after all Aidan had avoided her for weeks and he still hadn’t signed the contract for the second season of Poldark. Anyway, he couldn’t ignore it and as he was alone right now he could also get over with it. 

As soon as he had pressed play he wished he hadn’t, since it was Liam who greeted him in a stern, ice-cold voice.

“I am so sick of you and your avoidance strategies, Aidan. It’s now two months that I told you to pick up your stuff and leave for good after giving a shit about the family for the last nine months. Do you have any idea what you're doing to our mother? Now, I’d like to inform you that your stuff is already packed. I want you to pick it up until next Wednesday, 2 p. m. at the very latest. Everything in this apartment which is still there after that, will be thrown out of the window. Then you can pick up the broken fragments of your former life right from the street. I suggest calling the press for you, so you can make it to the headline: _“Poldark star starts anew after family fall out!”_ You’d like that?  
I further want you to delete my number. Don’t you dare to ever call or text again! I don’t have a brother anymore, you are dead to me!”

Aidan stumbled along the wall into the restrooms. He went to the last stall, entered it and locked himself. He collapsed on the toilet lid, pulled his knees to the chin and started to weep. The hurt he felt right now stood in no comparison with everything he had experienced before. White lances of pain shot through his entire body, ripping him apart and setting fire on every single nerve. The Irishman sobbed violently, almost choking on his constricting throat as he started to hyperventilate, wetting the denim fabric above his knees.

The all-consuming, blazing agony over the loss of his beloved family seemed to eat him alive. The world spun around him when his breathing went faster and faster. His hands and mouth started to tingle and before he could process what happened his hands and arms started to tense up, his palms and forearms flexing in painful spasms. If the Irishman wouldn't have been so busy to catch his breath it surely would have been confusing to him how his body responded. Suddenly his vision was blocked with those familiar black dots again and then there was none.

~~~

He could hear the sudden opening of the restroom door as he slowly drifted back into consciousness. He blinked his eyes open and was puzzled with the sight greeting him. How the fuck could he have fallen asleep with his head against a white tiled wall? It took him a few more moments to remember the circumstances and he lifted his head to take in his surroundings, moving carefully to not make a sound. He still somehow sat on the toilet lit, but was tilted to the side. Fortunately the stalls were that tight, he just had fallen against the wall when he had passed out earlier and had not hit ground. 

It couldn’t have been long since he had fainted, his hands and mouth still tingling. The voices he had heard were clearer now. They belonged to Jed and Luke, who both stood in front of the urinal, peeing and chatting.

For a change, the brunet wasn’t the issue which was talked over, what felt nice, to be honest. Although he wondered how long his colleagues might have been back from their lunchbreak and if someone had noticed his absence.

After Luke and Jed had left the Irishman started to collect himself. He felt numb and torpid, suddenly everything was meaningless, empty and cold.

The voicemail had been the final straw, giving his life-weariness an entirely new dimension. Despite surviving a suicide attempt two months ago this feeling was new. 

Aidan had never been more certain of anything in his life, he almost felt…relieved. Relieved that the decision was finally made. Of course he had been determined before. He had researched intensely to not make any mistake again and prepared to be ready, when the time had come. He had balanced risks and benefits over and over again and he had written farewell letters to Dean and Liam already two months ago. But nonetheless, the decision now made ultimately took a huge burden off his shoulders since there were no more answers needed. This life was about to end now. 

_Finally_


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I added some important tags.  
> Though this story hasn't reached its peak yet, I think I should give a **trigger warning** since things are going from bad to worse over the next chapters.  
>  So if you are triggered by **everything suicide/selfharm-related** you should consider scipping the second half of this chapter and some of the next ones. I will point out those particular chapters in the respective chapter notes at the beginning. I think the main storyline will still make sense to you, if you decided to scip.
> 
> I also wanted to say Thank you again... to all of you who gave kudos and wrote those lovely comments. Although I've never been told anything bad or critical about this story, I'm starting to get a little nervous about it. I'm afraid people might jump off the train because...well, it's really dark, isn't it?  
> So thank you again for encouraging me and this piece of utter whump.

It took Aidan some time to be able to leave the restroom and get back to the others. Of course, nobody had taken any interest in his absence, let alone his presence. They all sniggered at something funny Stephen had said and the Irishman tried hard to not think it was about himself.  
The rest of the afternoon passed in a strange comfortable inner silence. His mind had suddenly stopped to rash from one thought to another. There was no contemplating about guilt, loss and anguish anymore, no ruminating about a safe and painless method to end his life. There was just silence…and relief.

When his cast-mates prepared to leave, he made sure to fall behind and went back in one of the camera rooms. He knew the material was not to be sorted out until next week, so it was a safe way to say good bye. He just couldn’t leave with all of them being so mad at him. Of course there was no time to explain things properly, but he could apologise and tell them, what they meant to him.

~~~

Leaving the video message had been harder than expected. At first he had struggled for words and when he had found some, he had to fight back the tears for he didn’t want to sob all through his little speech, appearing even more pathetic as he already was. One or two might have been shed and his voice had quivered terribly, but mostly he had been able to contain himself. 

He got up to switch the camera off and cringed when the door suddenly flew open, only to show a fast approaching and fuming Graham. 

“You really think you can get away with this conceited behaviour without anyone telling you their honest opinion?”

Aidan stood there, midways between chair and camera, frozen to the spot. His chest tightened as fear gripped him. What was the Scotsman up to?

“No…I…”

“To avoid trouble and bad mood no one bothered to ask you why we are not worth your attention anymore. We have long accepted that you, as you are now a most popular actor, don’t care about old friends. That you give a shit about the people who defended you when things got bad with Rob Kazinsky, who cheered you up and went with you through the most challenging film shoot ever. That you don’t even care about the man you called once your best friend. The man you were inseparable with and who gave you all the affection he could offer despite all your flaws.”

_I have always loved him._

Aidan opened his mouth to say something to his defence, but closed it quickly when he saw the murderous sparkle in Graham’s eyes. 

“This meeting was meant to be a happy occasion, a chance to get together and catch-up. Unlike you, we appreciate what we have with each other and we wanted to enjoy it.”

The still confused brunet furrowed his brows quizzically as he didn’t get the point of the Scotsman’s speech.

“Why are you here, Aidan?” That question was unexpected. “I mean, you gave a shit about us during the last months. Why did you come here to force yourself on us? I don’t get it. Is it the extra screen time in the Extended Edition? Don’t tell me you sought our company!”

_I hoped I could make up for the mistakes I’ve made._

“I just…I thought…”

“Ah, shut it! I don’t wanna hear any more lies! You ruined the whole event with your annoying presence. With your smug glances and your detachment, you’re arrogance is disgusting!”

Aidan’s face faltered as the words cut deep into his heart. If Graham had just strangulated him with his hands it would have had the same effect on his breathing.

“I’m sorry,” he answered in a cold, sarcastic voice to appear strong, “If I had known I was unwelcome…”

“You are, indeed! You are unwanted and despised by all of us! None of us wanted you here, you just imposed on us! Just leave us the fuck alone!”

The brunet had a hard time to remain calm when all he wanted was to run and hide away. Eyes and cheeks burning, he clenched his jaw and swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat. If Graham said a few more things he might burst into tears right in front of him. He turned his head away from the Scotsman to not give his state away.

“And now you turn away like a fucking insulted child? You know what? Just go on with your sad life!”

_I won’t._

“Anyway, I just came here to tell you that you suck! But I tell you something more: people like you, who exploit kind-hearted guys like Dean or Adam, don’t deserve any friends! You don’t even deserve kindness!”

And with that he turned on his heel and left, not without slamming the door shut, leaving a very distraught and desponded Aidan behind, who sank back on the chair. 

Within seconds he was a quivering and crying mess, stammering frantically “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” over and over again in a scarcely audible voice, only interrupted by his violent sobs. The pain was so intense that he wasn’t able to contain himself anymore and wailed loudly in his agony.

~~~

It had taken him more than two hours to calm down enough to get back to the hotel. After crying for an hour or so he had to fight with the nausea, spending at least thirty minutes in the restroom to puke out his guts and another hour to recover from that.

When he finally arrived at his room he felt spent and worn out. Even battered, now that he knew how much his appearance had bothered his colleagues. He hadn’t intended to spoil their reunion. God, he had screwed up everything. Why they hadn’t beaten him up was a miracle to him. Graham’s words echoed in his head, leaving him remorseful and sad. Ruining their time hadn’t been something Aidan had wanted.

_I don’t deserve to live._

He took the two envelopes out of the drawer in his nightstand and opened the one with “Dean” on it. He had written it two months ago, but now he needed to adjust the text a little. He couldn’t leave the Kiwi thinking that he had been used by him and he felt the urge to apologise for intruding the cheerful event of meeting again.

He didn’t even know why he had brought his farewell letters with him, for he hadn’t planned to end his life here. But now as he was about to do so, he was glad about it.

Tears dropped down, wetting the paper as he wrote his last words with a trembling hand. When he had finished he put the letter back into the envelope, closing it carefully. Then he sat on the bed with his face to the sliding doors which led to the small balcony. Now that he had done what he thought was necessary, his mind was blank. That changed suddenly when a wave of steely determination gripped him. He stood up and walked towards the doors, feeling strangely numb. 

The cold wind outside didn’t bother him as he stepped towards the parapet, feeling as if he was in a trance. His knuckles turned white when his hands embraced the railing. He looked down to the street where little cars drove in an endless line of light and thought that the 7th floor might not be enough to kill him immediately. 

Was it possible to get access to the roof? The building had 12 floors altogether, the impact on the ground from this height was assuredly lethal. But Aidan had not the energy to leave the safety of his room to look for the entrance to the roof. What if he ran into someone and his intentions were revealed? No, it was better to remain here and trust gravity to ensure deathly outcome.

He started to climb the balustrade, his heart beating rapidly and his palms sweaty.

~~~

A few miles away Dean watched the barkeeper drawing another beer for him. It reminded him of Aidan since the Irishman had worked in a pub during drama school to support himself.

Fuck, everything reminded him of Aidan these days. Why did he have to emerge when all the Kiwi had wanted was a bit of fun with his friends from The Hobbit? He was mad beyond measure with the Irishman for being such a ruthless pain in the arse. But if he was completely honest, he was even madder with himself for still being attached to the brunet.

He had felt a little triumph when Graham had told them about his encounter with Aidan earlier that night. The Scotsman had stated the truth, something the Kiwi had failed to do. Aidan deserved that. It was clear that he didn’t care, so why being regardful? But Dean couldn’t help to feel a little bad about it, too. Graham’s words couldn’t have left Aidan unaffected, could they? 

_You are a pitiful, lovesick, hopeless idiot, O’Gorman!_ He scolded himself and took a huge gulp of his beer intending to forget about Aidan and his stupid behaviour. 

~~~

_In a few seconds there will be nothing left of me save for a puddle of blood._

But was that what he really wanted? A fire-fighting operation? A police investigation? The hearings of witnesses, maybe even his cast-mates in order to find out what happened? The scandal-screaming headlines in cheap gossip magazines? Did he really want everybody to know about this? Talking about this? The answer was a clear no.  
He didn’t want to impose any kind of inconvenience on his former friends, let alone his family back in Dublin. And so Aidan descended the parapet, slowly and reluctantly, but surely. 

He collapsed on his bed, shaking and snivelling, feeling again like a wretched failure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I'm such a bad person. I feel the need to apologise to Graham Mc Tavish for making him such an arse... :-(


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter is semi-save. Aidan doesn't do anything here, besides remembering his past attempt. This chapter contains some serious bullying, though. (is it still called bullying when it's supposed to be behind one's back?)

And then the day came when it really happened. 

After the rash action the night before, Aidan had concluded to stick to his old, well-elaborated plan. After the fiasco his first suicide attempt had been, he had wanted to ensure that nothing was going to go wrong again. He had done a lot of research, there were forums all over the internet where people shared all their experiences with self-harm and suicide. His already sleepless nights had been spent with looking for the perfect method to end his life for many weeks now. At first he had learned what went wrong the first time he had tried to kill himself. To rely on the baneful effect of two packages of over-the-counter sleeping pills was a mistake he was not going to make again. 

He mournfully thought back to that day, the day after he had received the voicemail from Liam which told him to move out of their apartment in Dublin. They had lived all his time during drama school together in that flat. Even after that, when Aidan had worked in the local theatres, he hadn’t left. When he had moved to England and later New Zealand he still kept his room, even as Liam’s girlfriend moved in. Every time he had visited Dublin, he had lived there, had never gone to a hotel. It had been fun to spend time with his twin brother and he always had felt at home, warm and welcome…just himself.

When he was asked to leave, it had hurt deeply though Liam had had a point in accusing him of disregarding family and friends. Of course it had seemed to him that way, but Aidan hadn’t been able to tell the truth. By this point his self-isolation had gone too far to resolve any of that. It was just too late to hope for forgiveness.

On this day Aidan suddenly knew he didn’t want to live anymore. When it had come clear to him that he had ruined all his relationships with family and friends and that he was utterly and desperately alone beyond repair, he had made the decision. Life wasn’t liveable that way. 

So he had taken the pills, only to find himself massively hungover 48 hours later in his bed, still living. Still so very alone, distraught and hopeless. 

He had never known how many hours he spent frozen in place after realising he had failed, mourning and crying, bewildered by his incapability. He couldn’t even kill himself properly. But there had been something else beyond the desperation. No one had noticed. He had lain in his bed unconsciously for 48 hours and no one had missed his presence. How long would it have taken until someone would have found him in case he had been successful? 

That had made him cry even harder. His disgust with himself and his self-pity had made it even worse so he had wallowed himself into exhaustion. He had wept until there was no more air left and his ribcage ached from the violent sobs, which had escaped him. 

It had taken him one more day until he finally could get up and was able to work again. He just hadn’t been able to find the strength to get out of bed. 

_An entire day._

He had told everybody he had been sick with food poisoning. That had worked very well since it explained his worn out looks and the downright bad mood he was in, let alone his upset stomach. No one ever noticed the grief in Aidan’s eyes. But he had been too afraid of another failure to make a second attempt. Until now.  
The last three days had shown him how massively he fucked up. There was no way someone would ever forgive him, he was absolutely and utterly alone. 

After receiving the other voicemail from his brother and being rejected by Dean and the others, he didn’t see any good in his existence anymore. After yesterday’s events Aidan knew there would be no turning point, it was now or never. The experts called it the presuicidal phase, there was even an entire syndrome named after that. 

_Hell, I even read about the stages of suicidality!_

According to what he had read, he was in that phase, that syndrome, for weeks now, shifting into the ambivalent phase from time to time. His thoughts and emotions, even his entire behaviour had been more and more confined until the imagination of ending his life and - finally - finding rest was an all-consuming thought which imposed on him every waking minute. The fact that he had shown up for the interviews was only a sign that he had tried to find something to prevent killing himself, that he was _ambivalent_.

The written letters were delivered, one for Dean and one for Liam, as he couldn’t find it in his heart to write one to his parents, too. Liam’s letter was safely in the mailbox on its way to Ireland, while Dean’s was left at the hotel reception with the strict order to not be delivered before tomorrow afternoon. He even had texted Liam. It was a short message only to let him know, that a moving company was going to pick up his stuff next Wednesday as required. He actually had really booked them, as he didn’t want for his brother to be bothered with his old stuff. 

After checking out he headed to the hotel cafeteria one last time. He never knew what struck him in that moment, but he felt the need to have an espresso to calm his nerves, maybe he was just stalling for time. He settled in the comfortable seat, sipping his drink when he suddenly heard it. 

Dean’s voice! Right behind him, hidden behind one of the wooden walls that separated the different tables to convey more privacy. Why the hell weren’t they at the planned photo shoot, where they were supposed to be? Had it been cancelled? Since Aidan had officially announced his cancellation the day before, he wasn’t up to date anymore. 

He froze and held his breath, suddenly turning pale. They were talking about him. _Again._

“I don’t want to talk to him anymore, Ads. And I give a shit if I might have hurt him or not. Face reality, we’re done.” 

“Yes I know he’s been a dick, but I would’ve never guessed Aidan is one of those people. But nevertheless, he looked so lost yesterday, I was sure he was going to cry every second.” 

“Believe me, Aidan wouldn’t cry and certainly not over us. We mean nothing to him. We were convenient for a while, but now that he’s the famous Ross Poldark, he’s out of our league. He can’t bother himself with our presence.” 

Dean’s voice was bitter and strident, full of anger and disdain. Aidan felt tears welling up, but fought hard to not let them spill. 

“Business and success always change people, there is no good in mourning after him. He’s gone, Adam!” That was Jed. 

“Maybe he’s drinking… or even worse”, Jimmy’s sarcastic tone was distinctive, “and soon he’ll have a reality show about his lifestyle. With lots of new friends, of course, since he hasn’t any old ones left.”

Loud laughter erupted from the group, causing Aidan to cringe. 

“It doesn’t matter what excuses he has”, Graham interrupted grumpily. “He’s neglected every interaction that has to do with us. He gave a shit about our friendship and that tells me he want nothing to do with us anymore. Our encounter yesterday only proofed that I was right all the time. Why not meet his wish? I don’t need any friends whose ego is bigger than is good for them. The higher you climb the farther you fall. Let him fall”.

_I almost did yesterday._

“Did you see he doesn’t eat?” Stephen tossed in. “Surely he prepares that sixpack of his, as he is the scything god. Of course there is no room for dinners with friends when the superstar does his work. Look and learn!” 

The snide in Stephen’s voice made Aidan choke, hastily he buried his mouth in his elbow to prevent being caught. 

Luke now interrupted the laughter caused by Stephen’s comment. 

“And please: don’t pester him with your presence, he’s so busy giving interviews and appearing in talk shows, he really can’t bother with you lower beings. Imagine he was seen with one of us ordinary people while Hollywood is calling!” 

“Well, all of that can be seen in his new reality show!” Jimmy bawled while the rest exploded with a new laughing fit.

It felt like he had swallowed a piece of hot iron while someone had emptied an ice bucket over his head. It was like being on set again with half of the Poldark cast and crew mocking him.

Did they all really think that bad about him? His eyes burned and his vision blurred, but he still didn’t allow the tears to fall. It hurt terribly. He had known they were mad and disappointed, that they had to think this way of him, since he had neglected them over the last months. But now, that he was confronted with all the hatred and disdain, it made him feel as if the last bit of strength had been sucked out of him. His body sagged and he felt the urge to run away. He sat there in silence, eyes burning, and tried to get his breathing under control. 

Now Dean was speaking again: “I’ll be glad, once I’m back home. I will start my new project and put fucking Aidan-‘I’m better than you’-Turner into the drawer which is signed as 'mistakes I will never make again'.”

That was the final straw, he couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up as quietly as possible and threw some pound notes onto the table. Then he urged to the exit, relieved that he didn’t have to pass the table where the others were sitting at. He only hoped he would remain unseen. 

His luck didn’t last long. Reaching the entrance of the café, he bumped into a tall dark haired man – Richard. He hastily looked up, avoiding the man’s eyes, mumbled an apology and bolted out of the door.

~~~

Richard stood there, a frown of confusion on his face. He gazed after the Irishman, then turned back to the entrance, wondering what might have happened to cause the tears in Aidan’s eyes and the precipitate reaction. He couldn’t know that, later that night, he was going to regret bitterly not going right after Aidan in the first place.

~~~

On the crowded street Aidan took the next cab he could get, he was still holding back the tears and had trouble breathing. Once he was on his way home he calmed down a bit. As hurtful as it was, it only reinforced his plans. He sniffled and rubbed his eyes.

Today he was going to die. Today things would be different, this time he would succeed. After all the research he had an infallible plan.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point I want to say, that suicide is **NEVER** a resolving. Even if it doesn't seem this way at the very moment, there is **always** another solution, believe me. Things will sort out and conflicts will be solved. If you don't care for your own life anymore, mind the people you will leave behind in pain and grief, they don't deserve that. That's not worth it! 
> 
> ~~~~~
> 
> So please mind again, that I added some tags.
> 
>  
> 
> **If you are triggered by all things suicidal (especially suicide attempts), blood or drugs please skip this chapter entirely.**
> 
>  
> 
> I'd even like to give a warning for those of you, who decide to read it, as it's quite **graphic**. 
> 
> The most important thing is: This is **NOT** a guidance in "how to commit suicide successfully", it's just the result of my own imagination and my obsession with medical details. 
> 
> If you think there were more tags or warnings, I didn't think of, please tell me so I could add them!

When Aidan got home he was calm. In fact, he felt relieved because he knew he wouldn’t have to endure any more of that shit any longer.

He entered his house, went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. He took the glass of applesauce and filled a small bowl with it. His mother had made it, he sadly noticed. She always made applesauce and juice from the rich growing trees in her garden. He only hoped she won’t be mad at him for the misuse. The thought was enough to bring fresh tears in his eyes again. 

_No, you idiot, you won’t ruin this because of another mental breakdown._

He opened the cupboard and took out the medication packets. It had taken him weeks to collect all of them. He had gone to different doctors with different ‘symptoms’. To one of them he had complained about an unbearable backache until he had gotten the 'good stuff'. The tramadol wasn’t that strong, but two entire packages should make a lethal dose to his non-unhabituated body. The other doctor had heard a story of a neurotic actor who suffered sleepless nights, horrible panic attacks and anxiety. After repetitive visits he had gotten the diazepam bottle. Only five drops, if really needed, the doctor had exhorted. Until now the bottle was completely unused as well as the tramadol, for Aidan had never had any pain in his back or somewhere else unless his broken heart. Of course he had suffered panic attacks and some kind of anxiety, but he had never taken the sedative. He rather had saved it up for making a clear cut.

After pouring the whole bottle into the applesauce he pounded all of the tramadol pills and added the powder to the pulp in the bowl. He looked sceptically as he put the first spoonful in his mouth.

Fuck, the taste was horrible! Bitter and oily, he knew he would never be able to keep it down. God, was he really going to fail again because he wasn’t capable to swallow his own creation of a cup of hemlock? 

_No, that's not going to happen!_

He added the rest of the applesauce and looked through his medicine cabinet once more. Then he took two of the antiemetic suppositories he was supposed to take while suffering from a bad migraine attack, which was - thankfully - a very rarely occasion. After inserting them in the bathroom he waited the ten minutes he knew by experience the medicine needed to take hold on him and went back to the kitchen. Here he forced himself to empty the entire bowl. 

After he had finished he went through the cupboards again to find the bottle of whiskey, he had gotten from Dean for his 30th birthday. It was a very special brand and they had decided to drink it together on an exceptional occasion. Aidan’s throat tightened at the thought and he tried to swallow around the lump which had built there. Dean would never drink with him again, no matter if Aidan lived or died. Though the occasion was indeed an exceptional one. 

He downed the first glass on his way back to the bathroom and had poured a second one before he started a hot bath, placing the bottle on the bathtub rim. While the water was running he kept on drinking the whiskey. Without realising Aidan had finished another glass and went straight to the next. It wasn’t for the taste, but the generally known interactions of alcohol and diazepam. 

He had read so much about the possibility of suicide by overdosing, that he went for a combination of two methods which were considered to be working. The diazepam combined with the alcohol would reduce his breathing dramatically, probably stop it completely, while it would put him to sleep at the same time. The tramadol had a resembling effect and it was even stronger in causing a respiratory depression, even without alcohol. Each drug alone might have had a lethal effect, but he was so determined to not survive a second time, he combined the two of them.

_Just to be sure._

Together this cocktail would put him into a drug induced coma and cause breathing arrest, so he would never wake up again. He had contemplated a lot about the pros and cons of those two tactics until he had decided to go for both. It was a painless option, but his body would fight it and probably throw up. That’s why the platforms recommended a mixture with something viscous and easily digestible, hence he had used the applesauce. It would speed up the gastric emptying and once the drugs reached his bowels, there won’t be a chance of surviving at any rate. 

He mused about that for a few more minutes, when he suddenly noticed that he was strangely calm … no, he was numb. That’s what they said about being suicidal, people calm down at the end. It was probably due to the diazepam as well, as he knew the tramadol needed longer to operate. He was also quite dizzy, no wonder since the whiskey bottle was already half empty. He turned the tap off and checked the temperature. It was nearly too hot, but he needed it this way to keep his peripheral blood vessels open.

He stripped down to his briefs and lowered himself into the tub. He didn’t want to be completely naked, for he didn’t know who would lift him off the tub once he would be found. 

_Being found…_

That was the only flaw in his plan. He was surely going to die, if he wasn’t found too early. 

_There’s no one who would come and find me._

But to play it safe he couldn’t just sit there and hope that no one would come for the next hours. He needed to make sure that everything went according to plan. He needed things to speed up. 

So what happened next was the hardest step of his plan. He had done a lot of research to ensure it would work. He even had prepared his wrists that morning after another sleepless night of brooding and crying. Luckily he had already palpated and marked the pathway of his radial arteries along his wrists and – as far as possible – his forearms with a pen in the morning, to make sure he did everything right. Doing it after the incident in the café would have been impossible. 

He took the razor blade he had bought a week ago and lifted it to his left arm. He suddenly hesitated, not because he doubted his decision to die, but he was only human and feared the pain like everybody else would. His vision blurred again and now he noticed that he was crying again. He knew there was no coming back from the point he had already reached, but cutting his wrists open would finalise the whole deal. 

_Deep longitudinal sections might do the trick._

It was important to cut a deep longitudinal slash in the artery to ensure continuous blood loss, he had read. A transverse cut would only cause the artery to constrict and close up.

After taking a deep shuddering breath and another big sip of whisky he set the blade on his left wrist and made a long deep cut within the marks along his arm. The fact, that bright red blood gushed out pulsing from the wound, assured him that he had met the right vessel and so he repeated the same procedure on his right wrist. The pain wasn’t as bad as imagined, probably due to the painkillers and sedatives he had taken before. He felt a sensation of disbelief and relief at the same time. 

_Have I really done that?_

He needed warmth to keep the cuts open and to avoid the constriction of the hurt arteries. So Aidan lowered himself deeper into the water, put his hands under the surface, closed his eyes and tried to relax a bit while the water was turning more and more red. 

It didn’t take long until he felt really dizzy and extremely tired. He leaned back in resignation, tears still falling from his eyes, but there were no sounds, no hitched breathing or sobs. Aidan cried in silence as he lay dying, but the more blood he lost and the more the drugs showed their effects, the more he drifted into the dark. He felt strangely relaxed at this point. His thoughts wandered to his brother and parents and he hoped that one day they could forgive him. 

He thought of Dean and the beloved dimpled smile he would never see again. Would he be mad at him? Maybe he would think of him as a coward. And a coward he was, wasn’t he? Too afraid to admit that his acting was shit and he had disappointed all along the line. Too afraid to talk to anybody about that, ask for help or let anybody see, that he had no control over his life anymore. 

At least Dean would know that he never had been used by Aidan, that he loved him deeply and that he repented forever letting him go all this years ago. His last thoughts were of the blond Kiwi, their good times, his voice, his laughter and the deep blue eyes with the gleam of mischief within. 

Aidan smiled at this, then went lax and sighed deeply with relief before the world turned black when he lost consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o_O


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is safe to read, I assume.

Although laughing loudly with the others about one of Adam's hilarious stories, Dean felt a little knot forming in his stomach. At first it had been relieving to see his friends on his side. He had asked himself many times if he was overreacting and blowing things out of proportion, but learning that the others had been turned down by Aidan as well had put him at ease, at least a bit. But after Richard had shown up and told them about his encounter with Aidan at the café entrance, he had also felt bad for his former best friend. It was clear that he had overheard their conversation and the cruel things they had said about him. To be honest that had been quite uncalled-for and he felt a little ashamed for that behaviour. 

A memory popped up in the back of his mind: Aidan in front of his laptop in Dean’s trailer, clearly upset and close to tears after finding this stupid article about the many “miscast” roles in The Hobbit. Aidan had been ripped apart by the author because of Kili’s stubble and the tiny nose. He also had made him appear as 'another untalented pretty face'. It had taken him days to give Aidan his confidence back. Although he knew of his talents, he was quickly taken aback with unconstructive critique and scolding that was uncalled for. So Aidan might be hurt by now after listening to their talking and that was enough for Dean to feel slightly guilty. Richard telling them about Aidan’s teary eyes wasn’t of any help either. 

On the other hand the Irishman had gained so much self-esteem during the last year, he wouldn’t even care about what they said, would he? Although Aidan had made a puny attempt to reconnect with them, he had made it unmistakable clear that he didn’t want to have anything to do with them. He hadn’t sat with them during breaks, let alone talked to them. He had avoided them in all possible matters, so why the hell should he be bothered by those words? 

_Nah, there’s no reason for feeling guilty!_

When their casually chat went on, Dean couldn’t help but feel more and more restless. He couldn’t even explain why, but there was a nagging feeling in his insides which annoyed him and made him nervous. And if he watched closely enough, the others seemed strained, too. Did they feel the same? Maybe all of them had misjudged Aidan after all? 

After another hour he gave up on the hopeless task to stay relaxed. Maybe he would hate himself for it later, but he needed to talk to Aidan, maybe even apologise for saying those nasty things. Something just didn’t feel right, as if something was about to happen. 

He remembered the Irishman’s tensed facial expression the other night when they had argued in front of his hotel room. Dean had thought it was a look of anger, no one denied Aidan Turner something he wanted to have and _laughed_ at him, he had assumed. But now he wasn’t that sure anymore. 

Could he have mistaken sadness with anger? Well, usually not, but Aidan always furrowed his brows when concentrating and what if he didn’t want to let anyone see he was unhappy? Then he would concentrate to hold a sternly gaze, which didn’t give away what he was really feeling. The Kiwi also remembered now what he had refused to see that night. Aidan’s clenched jaw, the twitching fingers, the increased swallowing and the compressed lips, which made his mouth looking like a thin white line. All that he had interpreted as rage, but if he thought harder, it also could have been hurt and sadness. 

_Why would he be sad if he didn’t care?_

Suddenly everything was too much, the air was too thick and the walls seemed to close up on him, he needed fresh air. 

“Deano what’s wrong?” Stephen asked worried. “You look ill!”

“I’m not. It’s just … I … don’t think me stupid, but I feel bad for Aidan, I’ll see if I can find him.” 

“What? Why? And what will you do after finding him?” Luke added confused, but looked also concerned while worrying his lower lip.

“I have no idea.”

He excused himself and went to Aidan’s hotel room, only to find it empty with the housecleaner already at work. The lady on the reception desk told him that the Irishman had left a few hours ago. She didn’t tell him about the letter, the brunet had left for the blond New Zealander. Mr. Turner had told her explicitly that it must not be delivered until tomorrow. So she remained silent about that, customer was king after all.

With his head bowed, Dean returned to his friends in the café. 

“He left a while ago, seems like flight to me. I guess that was it then. We will never have the chance to make up for that.” He sat down and buried his face in his hands. 

“What shall I do now? Something doesn’t feel right.” 

His friends shifted uncomfortably in their seats and Graham, who seemed to be quite distraught himself, suddenly came up with a suggestion. 

“He lives here in London, why don’t we pay him a visit at home? He’ll probably throw the door right in our faces, but maybe he’ll listen. Maybe there’s some hope left. I’m coming with you!” 

In fact the Scotsman felt pretty bad for the words, he had thrown at the Irishman the other night. He hadn’t even meant to do so when he had entered that filming room. But when he had seen Aidan and his dismissive attitude something in him had snapped. But what if Aidan wasn’t dismissive, but somehow apprehensive of him? He remembered him behaving in a rudimentarily related way many years ago at the beginning of shooting The Hobbit. He had become quiet and withdrawn in their middle and as it had turned out, it had been Rob’s surreptitious bullying which had bothered the young and insecure Irishman. What if it was something like that again and he had made things even worse? And why the hell did his brain come up with that idea only now? 

The taut atmosphere was now palpable, it seemed that all of them suddenly remembered something that put another complexion on Aidan. 

An uneasy murmur rose from the group when everybody at once joined in a discussion about the issue. Dean only stood up, looking at Graham expectantly. 

“Are you coming?”

~~~

When Dean and Graham arrived in front of Aidan’s house they were annoyed and tired. It had taken them some time to get a cap in the crowded city and they had gotten stuck in traffic multiple times due to rush hour on their way from Southwark to North London.

They noticed that there was no light in the windows, although the sun had already set and night was falling soon. For a while they stood in front of the house, not moving. It seemed as if either of them pondered what to do next.

“What do you think?”, Graham asked gently. “Should we stay here until we’re turned to stone by the morning sun or rather ring?”

Dean gave him a meagre smile, as his courage had left him when the cab had stopped in front of the dark house. His heart jumped in his chest, where a dull ache had settled, and his mouth went dry. The idea of going after Aidan was suddenly not so appealing anymore. It felt like a really bad idea, after all. Dean wasn’t eager to live through more disappointments or fights, hearing stupid excuses or even nothing but “I had work”. He had heard that a lot a few months ago. 

“Dean?”, Graham asked hesitantly after the blond still had not moved.

“Huh? Yeah, we should see if the man of the house will welcome us.”

“But there are no lights, are you sure he’s here?”

“Dunno.” The answer sounded somehow sad. “But there’s something … I … I just … I don’t know … I have a bad feeling!”

So they went to the front door and rang the bell which caused nothing but silence. A second and a third ringing remained also unanswered. Graham turned to leave what sent a pang of panic through Dean’s body. 

_What’s wrong with me?_

“We need to get in there!”

“What? Why? Aidan’s probably on a fancy dinner party with some very important people!”

“Let’s go to the backdoor!”

When they reached the backdoor they found it closed, too. Graham didn’t miss the uneasiness, that had taken hold of his friend, and asked himself what the hell was wrong with him. Was he about to go crazy? Or was he right? Something felt off, but what?

“Maybe we can find an open window”, the blond suggested hastily.

“Don’t be ridiculous! He’s not here!”

“Please ... then break the backdoor!”

“Are you kidding? Dean! He. Is. Not. Here! Gone out, playing pool, maybe he’s even in Dublin!”

“No, that’s not it. Please Graham, something is off. I can’t tell you what exactly, but we need to get in. I’d do it myself, but it’ll take longer.”

“Deano, are you completely mad? Has that guy turned your head that much?” 

“That’s not the point Graham! Something is wrong, I can’t explain, it’s kind of a misgiving, sort of. I’ve no idea, just … please!”

Graham didn’t know if he felt it himself or if it was just the Kiwi’s desperation, which made him change his mind. The bald man sighed, then took of his jacket and gave it to the blond. He had never seen his usually laid back friend in such a state. What could possibly be wrong? 

“When there’s police involved that’ll be on your head.”

Dean nodded thankfully, stepped back a little and cringed when the tall Scotsman crashed into the door with his shoulder for the first time. It took him three more attempts until the door finally broke, leaving him panting and rubbing his shoulder in pain.

“I’m too old for this!” 

The house was dark and silent. While Graham still stood in the doorframe, rubbing his shoulder, the Kiwi squeezed past him and ran into the dark hall.

“Aidan! Aidan, are you here?”, he shouted frantically.

“Well, now police will be involved for sure, Deano. What’s wrong? Calm down!”

“I won’t until I found him.” 

He suddenly froze when he entered the kitchen causing Graham, who followed behind, to run into him.

“What is it now?” 

The Scotsman had gotten kind of nervous due to the strange behaviour of his friend. He’d never seen Dean this flustered.

“Graham is that what I think it is?” He pointed to the empty glass bottle and the packets on the kitchen counter. Suddenly his guts felt extremely cold, he couldn’t move at all and his chest started to ache. All colour drained from his face and he felt cold sweat running down his spine. Graham urged to the kitchen counter, eying the packings. 

“Uh…tramadol and diazepam, no idea what’s that for. What if he’s only in bed, suffering from one of his murderous migraine attacks? You know how bad they can get”, Graham tried to reason, remembering a deathly pale and whimpering Aidan, lying miserably in his bed in a dark trailer, desperately hugging a bucket and begging them to be left alone. That wasn’t the most glorious day, they had had on the Hobbit set.

“He uses MCP and ibuprofen for them, as suppositories for not to puke them out again. These were pills and drops!” 

“What else do you know about him, eh? What kind of Q-tip he prefers, favourite hair-styling product?”

“I know that these bottles are empty, which means that he’s either a drug addict or he took all of them at once to attempt suicide!”

Graham blanched. 

“Let’s go find him!”

~~~

When Dean was asked later about the events of the following hour, he would always say the same. 

“Everything went in a blur, I don’t remember all that much”.

In fact he felt like moving through a treacle-like fluid, which seemed to slow down his movements and even decelerate time. He barely remembered running frantically through all the rooms of his friend’s house to find him, scared he might be too late. 

What he would definitely never forget was the intense shout from upstairs.

“Dean, he’s here! HURRY!”

The stairs seemed endless and it felt like he might never arrive, when he was suddenly in Aidan’s bathroom, finding Graham with a mixture of fear, guilt, grief and desperation on his face. The sight of an insensible Aidan, white like a sheet, lying in his bathtub which didn’t contain water but blood, burned itself in his brain to hunt him down for the rest of his life. A pang of guilt hit him, when he realised that he had driven his best friend, the person he loved most, into suicide.

“Dean move, I can feel a meagre pulse and his breathing is shallow. Call an ambulance! NOW!”

“I…he…he can’t…!”

“DEAN!!!”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I added more tags. If you can't deal with them, please skip the next two chapters. If you skipped the last ones because of my trigger warnings, you should skip the next two as well. 
> 
> I'm totally obsessed with medical procedures for occupational reasons, so the next two chapters are quite graphic and detailed about that. So if you are bored with that, just skip the next two chapters. :)
> 
> Chapter 12 and 13 were a hell to write, but not because of the medical stuff. Do you remember the scene in Harry Potter 7 when they all drank Polyjuice Potion and then changed into Harry's cloths? Daniel Radcliffe had a hard time not to step into one of the 'other' Harrys and that's how I felt writing it. I always had to picture this scene in m head and ask me 'who is where?', 'who does what?' and - as always - 'does that make any sense at all?'  
> I really hope I got everything right and didn't mess up. 
> 
> A huge **Thank you** to my friend and collegue **Jana** who proof-read these chapters regarding the accuracy of the medical procedures without judging me for writing such horrendous things (or writing fanfiction at all). We had a nice discussion about spatula tests in unconscious patients though and settled for a compromise. XOXO

“DEAN!!!”

And that was what snapped the Kiwi out of his frozen state and made him move and think again. 

After calling for an ambulance, he rushed to Graham, who had desperately tried to wake the Irishman with no success. Together they lifted the lax brunet out of the tub and lowered him on the cold tiles, splattering bloody water all over the place and themselves. It was only now that Dean saw how severely Aidan had cut his wrists open, as there was a big amount of blood pulsing out of the long gashes. 

_At least it’s still pulsing._

“We need to stop the bleeding!” Graham demanded.

“But how?”

“I have no idea, bind the arms?” 

“With what? Can you just press them with your hands until I can find some towels or bandages?”

Due to the fact that Aidan’s arms had lost a good part of their former girth Graham was indeed able to compress them firmly, which slowed the bleeding. He was sure he had never squeezed anything that hard in his entire life. But he would happily see the bruises he left, if it meant that Aidan lived. 

“Aidan come on, stay with us, please! You need to pull through this”, the bald giant murmured.

At the same time Dean had found what he had been looking for in the cabinet, but could only fiddle with it, not knowing how to make an effective dressing. After a few seconds of thinking he pressed two rolled up bandages frenetically onto one cut with all his power and wrapped a third with a lot of pressure tightly around it. He repeated the procedure with the other wrist. In the end he picked Aidan’s bathrobe from a peg, removed the belt and cut it in two halves with a scissor, he had found along with the bandages. With the two small belts he bound Aidan’s upper arms properly to block the blood stream to his hands. 

“Little paramedic, are you?”, Graham looked impressed at Dean, who only shrugged his shoulders. 

“I remembered seeing how they fixed bleedings while shooting The Hobbit, although I doubt there were any arteries involved.”

“Let’s see, if we can dry him a bit. We don’t want him to die from pneumonia after surviving that act.”

In the end they used the bathrobe to wipe Aidan dry, for there were no towels in the bathroom.

“He didn’t plan to leave the tub and dry himself”, Graham muttered sorrowfully, turning the Irishman a little so Dean could place the bathrobe underneath his body.

“His breathing decreases further! But the bandages are holding for now, what’s the problem?” 

Dean desperately slapped Aidan’s face in order to make him breathe. Tears welled up in his eyes. 

“Aid please, don’t leave me, please! Don’t leave me!”, he whispered frantically. “Maybe it’s due to the pills he took?” 

And then he noticed terrified that the slight movements of Aidan’s chest had stopped. 

Afterwards Dean didn’t really remember what happened next, but Graham told him later that he had tried mouth-to-mouth ventilation, which seemed to work out more or less successful. At least Aidan’s chest had heaved a little, but that had been all they could do for the moment.

Suddenly there was turmoil downstairs. “Anyone there? Who’d called the ambulance?”

Graham’s eyes went wide, when he heard the male voice shouting. His voice roared through the house. 

“Up here, hurry! He doesn’t breathe”.

Dean thought he might faint out of relief when two paramedics entered the bathroom a few seconds later. Since Dean had mentioned the hurt wrists and the ingested medication on the phone before, they had come with full equipment and an emergency doctor. 

“Hi, I’m Dr. Jacobs, the casualty doctor. These are Brian and Will, certificated paramedics. What are we having here?” 

While the physician was speaking, he rushed to Aidan’s side, quickly checked his airways for vomit and began ventilating him with an ambu bag he had quickly pulled out of the emergency case before. To their relief Aidan’s chest rose as a result.

Since Dean still looked like passing out at any moment, Graham stepped in. 

“We found him like this in the tub. He cut his wrists open, it looked really bad, must have lost loads of blood. We bound his upper arms and tried to bandage his wrists. And he took some drugs as well, I don’t remember….”

“T’was diazepam and tramadol”, Dean added in a small voice. “The bottles were empty, there’s also a half empty bottle of whiskey.” He pointed weakly in the direction, where the bottle stood on the bathtub rim. “His breathing stopped, so I tried mouth-to mouth, but it didn’t work properly.”

“How long isn’t he breathing?” 

“He stopped maybe thirty seconds before you arrived, a minute tops.”

Dr. Jacobs nodded firmly and continued to press the bag every few seconds. 

“Brian, see the marbled skin? Take the bag, I will place an IV into his jugular as his circulation is already centralising, examination afterwards! Will, give me some vital parameters, ECG monitoring, then place another IV peripherally! We better have two. He’ll need lots of volume, hence you need a big one. The bandages you made seem to hold for now, the bound upper arms help a lot. Good job!”, he added with a quick glance at Dean’s stunned face.

Dr. Jacobs prepared a large intravenous catheter to set into Aidan’s right jugular. Dean felt a wave of nausea when the needle came near to the Irishman’s neck. He had to turn his head and look away, since he felt the urge to throw up. When he turned back to Aidan again, the IV was set and a large infusion bag was about to be connected to it. 

In the meanwhile, Will put a pulse oximeter on Aidan’s left thumb and adhesive electrodes on his chest, the blood pressure cuff was wrapped around the right upper arm. 

Dean watched suspiciously when the doctor pinched Aidan’s nasal septum without getting a response. Then he shone a flashlight into Aidan’s eyes, only to curse loudly when he let go of the lids. Eventually he took a cotton stick and stroked right against the brown irises, the lids didn’t even twitch at the touch. When he was about to take the ambu bag back from Brian, the paramedic asked: “Don’t you need a spatula?” 

“No! Probably his gag reflex is lost by now, but if he throws up, shit’ll hit the fan!”

Watching this, Dean was reminded unwillingly of Aidan’s pronounced gag reflex. Sometimes he even dry heaved while brushing his molars. Let alone the one time the Kiwi had gotten carried away while Aidan blew him. What a mess that had been! And now this reflex should be gone? His friend didn’t react in the slightest, not even at the strokes against his eyes. What if Aidan was already dead? What if he had come too late? 

Tears welled up in his eyes and he felt an ache in his chest he had never felt before. The doc’s loud voice pulled him off his musings.

“GCS 3, pupils like pin pricks, no light response, corneal reflexes gone! Prepare for intubation!”

During the observing the monitor had booted and the alarm went off immediately.

“Oxygen saturation 64%, is that real?”, Will asked with wide eyes, which caused Dean to panic even more. 

“It’s probably artificial due to the blocked blood stream to his arms. Place it on an ear lobe.”

“It’s 84% now, heart rate 122 bpm, femoral pulse barely palpable, blood pressure 90/60. I can’t place another IV because he’s centralising. He’s on the verge of shock. We need an intraosseous cannula.”

“See to it, Brian and I will intubate.”

“Laryngeal mask or endotracheal intubation? Do we need relaxation?”, Brian asked diligently.

“Endotracheal! And there’s no relaxation needed anymore, he’s too far gone already. To be honest, the poor guy really knew what he did!” He looked worried to the monitor which showed a drop in blood pressure to 75/50. 

“That’s not good, heart rate has increased to 145 bpm, he’s in haemorrhagic shock, hurry with the fluids! Is the defibrillator ready, just in case?”

_DEFIBRILLATOR???_

Dean’s head started to spin and his stomach twisted painfully at the word. This couldn’t be true. Aidan wasn’t allowed to die! He felt a familiar hand squeezing his shoulder and assumed it to be Graham’s. He took the hand and squeezed back. 

He was ripped from his thoughts, when he heard the sickening sound of a small drilling machine boring into bone. 

_Did they really…? No! That must hurt!_

But Aidan didn’t react at all, when his left shin was bored and the interosseous cannula was placed. It took only a minute and Will was running to fetch more of the infusion bags while the doctor and Brian finished the last adjustments of the endotracheal tube, they had inserted in the Irishman’s throat in the meantime, and connected the mobile breathing machine to the tube so they could stop with the bagging, 

“Open the lines completely. He needs the liquids now, for he’s in shock and if we don’t get him hydrated…”, he quickly glanced at Dean and Graham and silenced himself. Too much information too early could be a mistake. 

Now that his patient was treated with everything they could do right now, Dr. Jacobs called the hospital to announce their coming.

“Male, 31 years, intubated and ventilated after suicide attempt with an unknown dose of tramadol and diazepam along with a lot of whiskey. He’s comatose and in breathing arrest. Further he cut his radial arteries, so he’s in haemorrhagic shock, too. Colloids are running through an intraosseous cannula and an IV in his jugular. As soon as we have him stable we take off. He needs blood transfusions and a vascular surgeon, it’s not done with needle and thread due to the amount of blood loss. We call again when we’re on the way.” 

After the call was ended Will turned to the doctor, “Colloid solution is running as fast as possible through the IV, electrolyte solution through the interosseous cannula!”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. As soon as his circulation is stabilis…”

He never came to the end of the sentence, for the alarm suddenly went off. It was not the same sound they had heard before when the oxygen saturation was low. This was the most annoying, frightening and tantalising sound Dean had ever heard. At the same time the green line on the monitor, which showed Aidan’s heartbeat, turned into an irregular zigzag line.

At first the Kiwi could only watch in confusion. But it turned quickly into pure terror when he saw that all three of the medics nothing but jumped at the sound, suddenly rushing into a confusing sequence of movements. The world suddenly seemed surreal and bizarre and the sounds seemed muffled as if someone had put cotton balls into his ears.

“Ventricular fibrillation, no inguinal pulse! Defibrillator!!!” the Doc shouted.  
Will, who had already run towards the suitcase with the requested device, came back with it in a hurry. He immediately started to install the broad patches on the Irishman’s chest while the machine booted.

“Everybody out of the way! 360 Joule! Watch it…Shock!”

The one thing, what really set the terrified Kiwi off, was the violent jolt of Aidan’s body when the electric shock went through him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm going on a trip over the weekend (it's my mother-in-law's birthday...eeeeww) I decided to post this chapter a little earlier than originally planned.  
> I think you are not too mad because of that awful cliffhanger in the last chapter? ;-D

A second of silence followed save for the unnerving alarm along with the horrendous zigzag line on the monitor, which had persisted. 

Dean felt lightheaded, all of a sudden the situation seemed absolutely ridiculous. He imagined Aidan, rolling his eyes visibly annoyed, because of all the fuss made over him and he had to fight the urge to laugh.

What was wrong with him? His emotions went into overdrive and he was unable to comprehend what was happening. 

“Still VF, let’s go!”

The image of Dr. Jacobs doing rapid deep compressions on Aidan’s bare chest burned itself into Dean’s brain along with the sharp cracking noise, when a bone broke under the violent treatment. It was like seeing the events through a veil, everything went in slow motion and the sounds seemed to fade away completely. And then the ice-cold feeling of realisation struck him when he processed, what just had happened, followed by a blazing hot sensation of sheer panic. It left him breathless and numb.

_He’s dead!_

The thought hit him like a truck, left him broken and destroyed in Graham’s arms on the white tiled floor. Sometime during the last minutes he obviously had gotten on his knees, apparently his legs couldn’t have borne his weight anymore.

His best friend…no, his brother, his muse and inspiration, the root of all evil and the reason to breathe itself - in sum, the love of his life - had just died. Abandoned and rejected, outcast by his friends and himself, alone on a cold tiled floor. He’d been too late.

It was when guilt and despair over his loss grew unbearable that he couldn’t help himself anymore and started to scream. Later he couldn’t even remember his words, but it must have taken him a while to calm down, since he was hoarse afterwards. He felt hands on his shoulders. Graham, who cried himself, spoke to him in a haze, but Dean couldn’t understand anything. His world consisted of nothing but pain, grief and guilt. There was no point in hearing what others might have to say.

His downward spiral of sorrow was interrupted, when suddenly a second jolt went through Aidan’s lax body. It was a sickening sight and the Kiwi wanted to shout at the medics to leave the body alone, when suddenly there was a beeping sound. A _regular_ beeping sound, still rapid but regular! The zigzag line was gone and replaced by a proper ECG line. 

_Could it be?_

“Sinus rhythm, heart rate 138 bpm, blood pressure 85/65!”

“He’s back. At least for now! Vitals seem to normalise“, Will sputtered excitedly when they could see the blood pressure increasing a bit while the heart rate sank. 

“We give him another bag of HES and take off! The faster we arrive at the hospital, the more likely he will pull through!”

After connecting the third infusion bag to one of the cannulas, the paramedics prepared Aidan for the transport. He was lifted on a stretcher and wrapped up in a blanket. The doctor watched the monitor intensely, but turned to the bandaged wrists once he saw, that the patient seemed to remain stable for the moment. 

“They’re really tight, you did a good job here. Otherwise he might have bled out.”

“In which hospital do you bring him?”, Graham found his voice while still holding a trembling and pale looking Dean in his arms. The Kiwi seemed to be on a different planet right now.

“University College Hospital, he’ll be admitted at A&E and will probably be already in an operation theatre before you’ll even arrive there. Prepare for a long wait. You are actually his…?”

“He is his husband”, Graham quickly lied and pointed to the shaking New Zealander. “I’m just a family friend.”

“Oh, I see.” He glanced to the Kiwi. “He shouldn’t be alone there.”

“I’ll stay with him.”

Dr. Jacobs turned to follow the two paramedics who had already gone downstairs with their patient. Five minutes later the ambulance left with the emergency lights switched on and the siren wailing.

Dean and Graham were alone in the messed up bathroom. There was blood on the floor, the cupboards, even on the door. When Dean had rummaged around the bathroom, looking for bandages, he had smeared it everywhere without even noticing. The worst was the bloody water in the tub, deep red and smelling. 

“Deano, are you alright? Listen you need to be strong now!”

Dean looked up, but didn’t fix his gaze, eyes shining glassy. The Kiwi was deathly pale and looked forlorn and utterly lost. 

“Dean?”

“I’m alright”, he mumbled, but still didn’t seem to be sorted. He stared into the empty room and started slowly but surely to hyperventilate. 

“I’m alright… I …just…”

He suddenly turned to the toilet, which was the only unbloody item in the room, slumped down on his knees, lifted the lid and vomited violently into the porcelain. After emptying the contents of his stomach, he dry-heaved a few times before his shoulders started to shake all of a sudden. Graham had to watch helplessly when Dean began to cry bitterly, shaken by violent sobs and smearing his bloody hands all over the toilet seat.

“Oh Dean, he’s going to be fine! Do you hear me?”

But the other didn’t react. Instead, he knelt in front of the toilet, bawling and staring dead ahead. Before he could start to wipe his face, Graham stepped in. After flushing the toilet he took the apathetic Kiwi by his left forearm and led him to the – barely bloodied – sink. With soothing words he carefully started to wash the blond’s hands, hoping the action would snap his friend out of his trance.

“Deano, listen! I know it is hard, but you can’t give in to the grief yet. Aidan needs you right now, we have to follow him to the hospital.”

There was no reaction, only quiet sobs and snivelling.

“Dean?”

Suddenly the New Zealander grimaced and began to whisper frantically.

“There’s blood everywhere! Everywhere’s blood, I need to wash it away! Everywhere’s blood! It’s all over the place.”

And with these words he started to scrub his hands vigorously with clenched teeth, breathing heavily through his nose. His actions got more fiercely with every second, while his babbling continued, his breathing hitched and he bit his lower lip until he draw blood.

“There’s blood everywhere, look!” He suddenly looked desperately to Graham. “We need…”

“Dean!”

“But we…”

Graham did the last thing, he would have ever thought he was capable to, he slapped Dean right in the face. Not very powerful of course, but it was enough to startle the Kiwi and stop the gibbering. The blond looked like deer in the headlights, reminding the Scotsman of a kicked puppy and he almost had to suppress a chuckle. 

“Dean, we need to drive to the hospital. You need to hold your shit together at the moment! Think always of Aidan, he needs you now!”

Dean blinked a few times, looking confused, then nodded slowly. When he started to speak again it was still hasty and shaking, but the words made sense at least and the absently look in his face was gone. He still seemed to be a little bit out of place, but he felt able to just function. 

“You’re right…wow…uh…thank you Graham!” 

He cleaned himself up and fidgeted with the hems of his button-down. He realized that his clothes were soaked in bloody water too, as well as Graham’s. There was no chance to ever get to the hospital the way they looked like. Eventually they ended up searching through Aidan’s closet in the bedroom, looking for some things to wear. After a short while they had found some stuff, a bit too big for Dean and too small for Graham, but for the moment it was enough.

After changing they hurried down the stairs to find the next cab, which could bring them to the clinic.

_Please just hold on, don’t leave me! Please just…live!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, that was the last time someone puked in that story!
> 
> ~~~~
> 
> VF - ventricular fibrillation 
> 
> HES - hydroxyethyl starch is a colloidal solution which binds water in the vessels. We give it to raise the blood pressure in shock


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, there's more medical stuff, but explained to a 'relative'. ;-)

The wet pavement reflected the emergency lights of another ambulance arriving at the A&E entrance. Somewhere far away he could hear more sirens approaching. After stabbing out his cigarette, he went back inside. 

It was a busy night at the University College Hospital. The waiting room was full of people, children were wailing, some people looked afraid, maybe worrying about a relative, whereas others had grumpy facial expressions, probably being pissed off because of the long wait. Most of them just sat there with emotionless faces, staring at the ground in front of their feet.  
And then, in the middle of all the foreign people who all had different reasons to be here, sat Dean, his face a sole grimace of sadness and grief mixed with disbelief and desperation. And above all, there was the heartbreaking look of sheer terror, which was not to be vanished by any soothing word or kind gesture.

Graham had tried for hours to calm the Kiwi down, to give him hope. But all his attempts had remained fruitless. At some point he had cried and shouted, fought and even thrown a plastic cup with hot coffee towards Graham, who had tried to get a grip of him. The Scotsman had just grabbed the smaller Kiwi, led him outside and stuck a lightened cigarette into his mouth. That seemed to work, as Dean took frantic drags and finally calmed a bit.

In the aftermath, he had just sat there and cried his eyes out. It had broken Graham’s heart to see his friend in such a state, especially as he felt like utter shit himself. He was responsible for Aidan’s condition. In his blind protectiveness of Dean he had hurt the brunet badly, threatened him and signalled that their friendship was over. He had been blind to the Irishman’s anguish, had condemned him and surely caused a great deal of the dark feelings, which must have led to the point, where Aidan had decided that dying was better than living in pain. 

When all the tears had been shed, the Kiwi had sunken into himself and stared at his feet, emotionally exhausted and desperate. That was when Graham had decided, he himself needed a fag. He was still shaken with Dean’s mental breakdown. At the beginning his friend had seemed to be sorted enough to manage all of this, but now he wasn’t too sure anymore. 

~~~

After their arrival they quickly had learned that Aidan was already on his way to surgery. Assuming the blond must be the announced ‘poor husband of the suicide victim’ the emergency doctor had spoken of, a young assistant doctor brought a pile of papers for Dean to sign. 

There were the common admission documents and patient information forms about blood transfusions, central venous catheters, the operation itself (something about mending the injured arteries with patches), some sort of so called antidotes and general anaesthetic…

Dean tried his best to follow the explanations of the young doctor and see through the forms, not daring to reveal the truth that he and Aidan weren’t an item at all.

“When your husband arrived, he got 2 units of 0 negative, which we had prepared after receiving the call from Dr. Jacobs. As soon as we have the results of his blood tests we give him more transfusions of his own blood group…”

“He’s A positive”, Dean replied listlessly, not noticing that Graham gave him a strange look.

“Ok, good to know, but we need the tests anyway. Since we knew he took opioids and benzodiazepines, we gave him naloxone and flumazenil, which are the antidotes to contain the effects. He must have taken a lot of them, for it didn’t work. He remained comatose, but we must not forget the severe blood loss and the resuscitation, both reasons for a coma on their own. He’s in really critical condition and we can’t guarantee his survival. You should be prepared for the worst. I’m really sorry, I wish I had better news.”

Dean gave him a lame nod. This was all too much! Shouldn’t he be frightened right now? Maybe hysteric? Angry? Or sad? But right now he felt nothing but a huge emptiness in his head.

“I know it’s a lot. But since you are his husband we need you to understand what happens with him, in case decisions have to be made.” The registrar clearly felt uncomfortable to press the Kiwi even further. 

A wave of panic ran through the Kiwi. What would Aidan’s family say? A stranger, who abandoned and mistreated their son, even caused his suicide attempt itself, now pretended to be his husband and made all the medical decisions before they even knew. 

_What will Aidan say?_

He probably hated him already, what if he learned that his former friend had put on quite a show and had decided his fate?

_I will gladly be hated, repudiated and even sued as long as that means Aidan will live…_

With that thought new tears welled up and his throat constricted. The young doctor squeezed his shoulder and smiled sympathetically.

“Hey, Mr. Turner, we do everything in our power to save him. He’s in the best hands!”

“It’s O’Gorman.”

“Sorry?”

“My name’s O’Gorman, we both kept our birth names.”

_Fine, now you even went further with your lies!_

“Ah ok, I understand. May I continue with the procedures?”, he asked, feeling that Dean was more content now. Another nod from the Kiwi assured him that he had his full attention.

“So, right now he’s in the operation theatre to get his arteries fixed. The bandages, you made earlier, were still in place when he arrived, but they were completely soaked with his blood, so we put new dressings above the old ones. The amount of damage will not become apparent until the surgeon pulls them off, but since he went into haemorrhagic shock the injuries must be severe. Usually cutting the radial artery doesn’t have such an effect, but if he set a long longitudinal cut this might be possible.”

Dean looked suddenly very pale and gasped for air so Graham stepped in.

“Can we talk about the operation itself? What can you do?”

“That depends on the type of injury. If he managed to sever the entire artery it’ll become complicated, since we have to sew both ends together. In that case there’s the possibility of a complete occlusion because of the stitches and the swelling in the arterial wall, especially in small arteries like the radial ones.”

“He’ll lose his hands?” Dean looked shell-shocked.

“Not necessarily. There’s also the ulnar artery which supplies the hand. The radial and the ulnar vessels build an arc in the palm to ensure the blood supply in case one of them is occlusive. In case there’s a longitudinal cut in the arterial wall, we can mend that with a special patch. This kind of surgery minimizes the number of postoperative occlusions. But as I said, the decision will be made intraoperative.”

“How long will it take?”

“I don’t know, probably hours! Depends on the wound, the severity of the injury, possible complications…”

“What kind of complications?”

“There are general risks like bleeding, there are also important nerves and sinews in the operational area which could be affected. Furthermore, later there might be wound healing disturbances and infection. Then you have the general risks of the anaesthetic and don’t forget the horrible circumstance that he’s still in shock. Of course he gets constantly blood transfusions along with colloidal and electrolyte solutions, but the risk of another heart arrest is always there!”

_This must not happen. Aidan made it so far, he must not die in an operation theatre!_

“Can I wait here until you have news for me?”, Dean asked with a teary and hoarse voice.

“Of course! When the surgery is done, your husband will be admitted to the Critical Care Unit to stabilise. I give word to you, as soon as that happens. But now I need you to sign all this forms, I’m sorry, but it’s a necessity.”

~~~

Graham returned to the distraught Kiwi in the waiting room, squeezing his shoulder gently.  
“I finally called the others. They are beside themselves with worry. Of course they feel beyond guilty and I had to promise to call again as soon as we have any news. I could barely stop them from coming over, all of them. When I called Richard, they were all gathered in his room, waiting for our call, they must have sensed something, since we left. Adam almost had a meltdown, babbled hysterically for half an hour….”

He was interrupted by a sarcastic snort. “As if he even could imagine…”

“Deano, you’re unfair now, you know? It’s not Adams fault!”

The blond lowered his head, feeling ashamed for being such a dick. He alone was to blame for Aidan’s decisions, he couldn’t take it out on the others.

“I know. It’s mine!”

“We had this discussion before, Deano. I am one hundred percent sure, there is way more to it than this stupid overheard conversation. Aidan Turner doesn’t want to die because of some arseholes being self-righteous. He must have had some serious problems before.”

_What we all failed to see, because we thought it more important to deplore his behaviour._

The Scotsman didn’t voice this thought, as he knew it wouldn’t do any good to Dean’s mindset. 

“Indeed, he does - _me_!”

“No Deano, you might be a piece of the puzzle, as am I, but that’s not all! Remember Liam’s reaction to your call?” 

Dean remembered that moment briefly.

_“Fuck, don’t tell me my glorious brother sent you to help him pulling his shit!”_

He had been so afraid to call the Irishman, to tell him his twin brother attempted suicide and almost died in his bathroom. But as soon as the call was accepted, Liam had blurted out that snide sentence without even saying hello. Sure, they hadn’t had any contact since he and Aidan had split up, but that was absolutely not the answer the Kiwi had expected from the always loving and caring older Turner twin. He absolutely couldn’t imagine them fighting, or even worse, separating. 

Although he had been quite taken aback because of the bitter words, he had spread the news quickly. Liam’s reaction had been the downright opposite to his former anger. At first there was silence, then denial. Probably he just couldn’t believe it, stammering “No, you’re lying! You must be lying!” multiple times. Then he had started to cry and after that he had ranted desperately about Aidan’s strange behaviour over the last months. He literally had crumbled within minutes.

Dean on the other side of the phone had been unable to process anything Liam told him and had just begged him to come as soon as possible. He had tried to hold back any information, finding himself unable to speak about what happened exactly. But when the Irishman had asked in a teary and fearful voice, how bad it was, he hadn’t found it in himself to lie.

“He…”

He had breathed in deeply and tried to prepare himself for what he was about to say. Speaking it out loud meant making it real. 

“He…uh…it’s…!”

“Dean, tell me!”

“They don’t know if he will make it through, it’s really bad”, he had sobbed into the phone.

The loud wails which had come from the other side of the phone had made it even worse. Suddenly there had been a frantic female voice in the background, probably Liam’s wife Kathy, always strong and determined, taking the bull by the horns.

“There’s a flight to London in two hours, I book the ticket and pack a bag. You call your parents, then sit in the kitchen and don’t move until I drive you to the airport! Dean he’s coming!” 

With a click the call had been ended. Dean had wished desperately, he had someone to tell him what to do, too. But he had Graham, who had given him the strength he needed to survive that situation himself. Who had held him through his breakdown, although he had been violent and embarrassing and who waited with him in these horrible halls of sickness and death.

“What time is it?” the Kiwi tiredly asked.

“Eleven thirty, Liam’s plane landed half an hour ago, he’s here any minute, I promise”, the bald man said with a warm voice. 

Truth been told, the Scotsman dreaded the moment of Aidan’s brother’s arrival. Not only would he be alone with two emotional wracks to deal with beside his own demons, but Liam was also known for his protective instinct towards his younger twin brother and he might be reproachful and maybe even aggressive. He needed to protect Dean, who was incapable of defending himself at the moment. At all costs! Even if that meant to knock Liam down if neccessary, he grimly thought.

Another 30 minutes went by when they suddenly heard hasty footsteps and a breathless gasp.

“Dean!”


	15. Chapter 15

While the Kiwi stumbled to his feet to urge into Liam’s direction, Graham tensed and stood up as well, ready to attack if things might get nasty.

But his worries had been to no avail since the two man desperately hugged, not letting go of each other while sobbing violently onto each other’s shoulders. Graham hadn’t seen the young Irishman for years, but they had got along well, back when he had visited his brother in New Zealand during The Hobbit. He assumed Dean and Liam might have had even more contact since the Kiwi and Aidan had been kind of close in that time.

The likeness of the two brothers surprised him again and again. They almost looked completely alike, although they were not-identical twins. Liam’s nose was slightly shorter and a little bit broader than Aidan’s and his dark hair was not that curly, he also wore it short and was always well shaved. Usually they had the same bright smile and brilliant brown eyes, the same infectious laughter and an intelligent sense of humour, but right now there was nothing radiant about Liam Turner. There was only guilt and fear in his eyes.

He quickly approached and greeted the brunet as well, put one arm around his shoulder and whispered quietly, “I’m so sorry for what happened!”

The Irishman, assuming Graham meant the incident itself rather than the question of guilt, only shook his head weakly and glanced back at Dean. 

“I can’t believe that he did that, I thought he was well and enjoying himself, sunning himself in success and glory and now… It’s all my fault!”

The Kiwi gazed in disbelief, shaking his head in confusion. Before he could start the guilt discussion again, Graham announced to find coffee and a snack and went off in the direction of the cafeteria. This whole story started to get more and more confusing. What the hell had happened to his friend, the always happy, laughing and caring Irishman, who was usually unstoppable by anything life could possibly throw at him?

When he returned, the younger men had already taken a seat and were absorbed in a teary conversation. Dean probably had filled Liam on the events of the last hours, because now he told him they awaited the doctor with news any time soon. The brunet looked as fearful as the blond, although right now Dean looked quite ashamed too, since he hadn’t confessed the husband issue to Liam yet. Graham approached in time to learn from Liam that their parents currently were in Peru on vacation and wondered if Aidan had considered that intentionally while planning his suicide. 

“Ehm…Dean have you told Liam about your…uh…your status?” the Scotsman asked while putting down a tray with coffee and cookies. The Kiwi dropped his gaze, shook his head and blushed slightly, which looked brightly red against his pale face. 

“I told the emergency doc that Dean is Aidan’s husband”, Graham explained to Liam apologetically. “I’m sorry, I thought that would be the only way to be able to see him and learn something about his condition!”

The Irishman only nodded slowly, looking sad and wary at the same time. 

“That’s why they gave him all the papers to sign and told him everything about Aidan’s critical state and the procedures to come. Please don’t be mad at him, he had nothing to do with that.”

“I’m not mad”, the Irishman replied mournfully. There was a brief moment of silence before he continued, “In fact, I wish you were indeed married, or at least still together! I’m sure you could have saved him, when I failed to see his suffering!”

Tears were running down his cheeks and he hastily wiped them away with the back of his hand, until Dean passed him a tissue. 

“We never were really together, just friends with benefits or something like that. And I failed him, too. He overheard me saying to everybody he’s arrogant and not worth to be friends with. I said he was a mistake I’ll never make again, I broke his heart with that. That was a few hours before the incident.”

“And I kicked him out of our flat yesterday, per voicemail! Dean, I haven’t seen my brother for almost nine months, he had withdrawn himself completely, didn’t call, didn’t visit, he ignored our mum’s birthday and got annoyed when I or our parents dared to call. We fought a lot and yesterday I demanded of him to leave for good, to delete my number and what not. I told him I don’t have a brother anymore!”

Dean’s eyes went wide with that, he hadn’t had an idea about that. Why hadn’t Aidan told him at the beginning of all that? Why didn’t Liam know about the separation between him and Aidan? 

Liam told them more about his brother's change during shooting Poldark, how he had always claimed to be too busy to visit at home, too busy to get visitors, too busy to call. He was surprised when Dean and Graham told him they had experienced the same.

“I thought my brother had his heads in the clouds because of the success. I was so disappointed in him, how could he let that change him so much? Now I learn he abandoned all of us. What’s going on with him?”

“I have no idea”, Dean sighed, “but I thought it was only his old colleagues because he’s playing on a higher level now or something like that, you know?”

“What if we all had been wrong?”, Graham interjected, “if he thought himself better than us he would have no reason to kill himself!”

“Yeah, but what is it then? He probably did it because he was hurt with the rejection, but why did he withdraw himself in the first place? I don’t get it!” Liam tore his hair in frustration.

“I have no idea”, Dean whispered in a meagre voice. “Could it be…I mean, I would have never guessed that, but could it be…maybe…drugs? That can’t be, can it?””

To that no one had an answer. Uncomfortable silence came over the three of them, while another hour passed. At least Graham was able to force some cookies and more coffee into the younger men while the minutes of waiting stretched into endlessness.

~~~

At first they didn’t even notice the doctor, who was approaching quickly, but when a tall bearded man demanded attention with a stern “Turner?” they jumped to their feet.

He signalled to follow and so they did, ending in a small room with a table and some chairs. The doctor was not of that kind who talked around the issue and sputtered right away. 

“So your husband did actually a pretty good job to ensure to die, but obviously he didn’t take you to his account.” He looked with a forced smile into the Kiwi’s blue eyes and then sighed. 

“He kept us quite busy during the surgery.” 

Dean didn’t know what to do with that information. Was Aidan alright or not? He also couldn’t deal with the distressed and slightly taunting tone in the surgeon’s voice, but right now he wasn’t up for arguing. He just wanted to know if Aidan would be ok. 

“What do you mean? Will my brother recover? Or is he…did he…?” Liam’s voice cracked.

“No, he’s stable for now and already admitted to the Critical Care Unit, I show you the way as soon as we’re done here. I'll tell you quickly about the surgery, then you can go off and find him.  
The arterial injuries were severe. He didn’t cut them through, but inflicted long gashes into the arterial walls, each longer than one inch, which is quite impressive. I was able to patch them up, but he lost loads of blood. The anaesthesiologist was barely able to keep his circulation running, you will learn more about his general condition when you arrive on CCU. I can only tell you that I managed to repair the arterial damage. There might be swelling in the operation area, so presumably he will be in pain and he might have neurological disorders in his hands, like loss of sensation, which probably disappear with time.”

“Probably?” came in a thick Irish accent.

“Right now you should be glad, that he made it at all! Some less feeling in his hands won’t be a greater problem. He can consider himself as lucky if he doesn’t end up with permanent brain damage from the resuscitation”, the surgeon snapped.

The Irishman could only sit, mouth agape, while tears welled up in his eyes. It earned them a piqued look from the doctor when Dean took his hand quickly in his own and squeezed it gently.

“Come on! He will pull through this, he will b alright. Let’s find that CCU and see, what they have to say.”

He urged out of the room with a hastily murmured “Thank you doctor”, feeling the air suddenly thicken, and was glad Liam and Graham were right behind him. 

“What an pompous smug sonofabitch”, the tall Scotsman snarled. “How dare he to frighten already shaken relatives? Does he think he’s working with machines? Are we to apologise for Aidan keeping him busy?” 

“I don’t care about him as long as he saved him”, Dean said weakly. “The only thing I want is to see Aidan, alive and healthy. Liam, are you alright? Don’t take the doc’s words to heart, I’m sure Aidan will be fine.” He only wished he could believe his own reassuring words, but at the moment everything was blocked with fear. He couldn’t afford to show that to Liam now, the younger man was shaken enough. 

The pale brunet nodded slowly and tried to produce a smile, failing thoroughly. After a quick nod he followed the blond to the reception desk, Graham right behind them.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's not much progress in the plot right now. For that I'm sorry, but there's just _so much_ to explain (due to my obsession with medical details and my incapability to sum things up). Sorry :/

As it turned out, the Critical Care Unit was on the third floor. After ringing the bell beside the visitor’s entrance, a red haired nurse led them in. Since Graham wasn’t family he was not allowed to come with them. The nurse made absolutely clear there would be no exceptions. Dean wanted to protest, after everything the Scotsman had done for him that night, he didn’t want to abandon him. Where would he be without Graham now? Most likely, he would still be sitting in a puddle of blood in Aidan’s bathroom, babbling and screaming. Heck, maybe Aidan wouldn’t even have survived without his help. 

“Dean, It‘s ok! I think Aidan shouldn’t be crowded by people wanting to see him. And let’s be honest, you don’t know if he wanted to see me.” His voice cracked a little at those words and his eyes moistened, but he was able to keep the pain and shame at bay. 

“If you don’t mind, I will go back to the hotel, the others need an update on Aidan’s condition, anyway. I hope they didn’t spread the news all over the world! And I’ll pack your stuff and check you out. You and Liam need a place close to Aidan. I’ll arrange everything, as I don’t assume you want to go back to Aidan’s house?” 

The Kiwi looked fearful and shook his head fervently. Never again he would set a foot in that goddammit house, now forever linked to the awful things which happened that night. 

They hugged Graham good bye and entered the ward without another word. It seemed to be a completely different world, sterile looking, blue and full of beeping machines, futuristic looking equipment and nurses, who watched intensely at monitors with strange looking lines. At first, the fact the ICU was called Critical Care Unit, CCU, at University College Hospital confounded the Kiwi, but in the end it didn’t matter, as long as they were able to help Aidan back to live… and health too ... preferably. 

Again they were brought to a room with a table and chairs. A blond woman in blue scrubs appeared in the doorframe, stethoscope around her neck. Although looking exhausted, she had a friendly smile and even offered more coffee to them, what they thankfully accepted.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Morghan, I’m the anaesthesiologist who watched over your husband during the operation, Mr. O’Gorman. I’m also one of the consultants on CCU, so I can also explain the upcoming procedures. It’s going to be a little complicated, as it’s a lot for you to comprehend.” She gave them a warm and sympathetic smile, knowing how anxious they had to be right now. 

“As for your similar looks, I guess you’re Mr. Turner’s brother?”, she pointed out after turning to Liam.

“Yes, indeed. I came from Dublin, arrived two hours ago. My name is Liam Turner.”

“You must be worried sick by now, so I will come straight to the point. Well, obviously your husband and brother knew exactly what he did, given the fierce strategy he used. As you’ve already learned he lost a lot of blood. He got two blood transfusions with 0 negative at A&E, during the operation he got another two of his own blood group, A positive. His circulation was kind of instable with the blood loss and the drugs he took. We had to give him different kinds of solutions to prevent another cardiac arrest. So, for now, his circulation is stable under a generous solution therapy. We’re planning at least two more blood transfusions to be able to end the solutions soon, maybe even four. After that there should be enough erythrocytes and liquids in his system to keep it running on its own.”

She took a sip of her own coffee mug before she continued. 

“Because of his poor condition and the shock we weren’t able to give him more of the antidotes against tramadol and diazepam, so we couldn’t end his drug induced coma, but the effects will wear of eventually. At the moment he still needs machine supported ventilation, but it’s just temporary, as the two medicaments paralyse the respiratory centre, but not in a permanently way. Any questions so far?”

“What do you think, when will he wake up?” The Kiwi barely dared to hope Aidan wanted to see him, but he needed to know, needed to see him at least once, before he would be banished from his life forever. 

“Normally we would expect him to breathe on his own by tomorrow morning and maybe to wake up in the afternoon…”

“What do you mean, _normally_?” Liam had always had problems to contain himself and let people finish their sentences, but now he was almost incapable of it. 

“Well there’s one more thing, I have to explain to you. Mr. Turner, Aidan, put an enormous strain on his body. All organs, especially the brain, don’t like a lack of oxygen. And he made sure there was a lack of many reasons: at first the breathing arrest itself, then the severe blood loss and, to top it all off, he went into cardiac arrest and needed resuscitation.  
Fortunately none of this lasted very long. He had just stopped breathing before the ambulance arrived and you already had ventilated him on your own, as I’ve been told. He went into cardiac arrest when the paramedics had been there already, so he could get advanced life support immediately. All these factors increase the chances for a good outcome immensely.”

Liam and Dean did their best to follow her disclosures. It was easier with Dr. Morghan thn with the surgeon, for she was an empathetic and patient woman, who understood the extreme situation the both of them found themselves in. 

“What I try to tell you is this: it’s unlikely he will have any damage on his inner organs or his brain, because of the short ischemia time, but we can never be completely sure. Hence we put him into so called hypothermia, to allow him to rest and regenerate. The body will be cooled down to 34 degrees Celsius for 24 hours to minimize metabolism and oxygen requirement. That reduces physical stress and improves the recovery of the organs.”

“Won’t he be freezing?”, Liam asked incredulously. Dean’s heart broke at the sight of the confused young brunet, looking so similar to his twin brother with the brows furrowed and the upper lip pulled up, mouth slightly agape. 

“Most people can’t tolerate hypothermia while being awake, so we keep them deeply sedated, like in an induced coma. It’s per se the same. In case of so called ‘shivering’ we’ll give muscle relaxants, too. 

“So it’s another 24 hours of waiting?”, Dean asked warily. He didn’t know how to bear that.

“Another 24 hours of recovery! And for he needs to be slowly warmed up after hypothermia, there’s _another_ day to do just this. So, if everything is going according to plan, we will start to reduce sedation _after_ the warming up, in about 48 hours. Assuming there are no more complications he should be fully awake in less than three days.”

Dean’s eyes filled with tears again. He had no idea how to live through the long, quiet hours on Aidan’s bedside, not knowing if his friend would ever be alright again. And even if he was able to get through this period, there still was the possibility of Aidan rejecting him after waking up. A side glance at Liam showed the Irishman had exactly the same worries, while thinking about the doctor’s words.

“I know it seems a long time right now, but we have to give him every chance, he can get, to recover fully.”

“Will he be able to hear us?” The idea of his brother, capable of hearing everything, but not able to move, speak or draw attention to himself, filled Liam with horror. How would he feel? Probably even more excluded than before! Could it even cause more psychological damage?

“Probably not, but we can never know. So spending soothing words and gentle touches is never wrong and most welcomed by us. Please try not to cause commotion in his room, it’s harder than you might think. I have to warn you, since you won’t like the picture of him, being connected to machines and feeling ice-cold to the touch. But that’s the only thing, what keeps him alive until he’s capable of working on his own again.”

The two men nodded slowly. When another information form was brought to Dean with explanations about the process of hypothermia, he gave Liam an insecure side glance, but the brunet only nodded in permission. He could barely make out the line, where he was supposed to put his signature onto, through the veil of unshed tears in his eyes. He swallowed hardly against the lump in his throat, but in the end he signed the form.

“Can we see him at any time?” The image of a stern nurse shooing him out of the room popped up in Dean’s mind. 

Of course! We don’t separate the family from the patients in those serious cases. We only ask to leave the room while the nurses do the personal hygiene and during doctor’s visitation in the morning. You are most welcome to stay around the clock, as long as you are able to make yourself comfortable on the small chairs in the room.”

Both Liam and Dean nodded vigorously, for they would have sat on the floor if only they were allowed to be with Aidan, even if he didn’t know about their presence. 

“Ok, now I bring you to Mr. Turner’s room, just follow me please!”


	17. Chapter 17

Dean lived in a hospital room shaped bubble, at least it felt like that. He had almost completely shut down, refusing to talk to anybody besides medical staff and Liam, who actually lived with him right now. Together they spent long hours in Aidan’s room, listening to the constant air blasts, the breathing machine pressed into his lungs, and watching the progress of hypothermia and warming up again over the next two days. 

~~~

To see his best friend in the bed for the first time sucked all air off the Kiwi’s lungs. The brunet, who was dressed in a light blue hospital gown, was deathly pale and looked small, worn out and thin. So very thin! Why hadn’t he noticed that before? 

Dean’s head started to swim and his legs seemed to refuse to carry him any further. Next to him Liam made it to a chair, ready to collapse at the sight of his twin brother. Doctor Morghan guided the blond quickly to another chair, clearly not wanting him to faint right in front of her actual patient.

They received an explanation of all the machines and lines connected to Aidan’s body. There was the tube in his throat, linked to the breathing machine which pressed air into his lungs periodically. There was a nasogastric tube in his right nostril to feed him. There were ECG cables coming out of the neck of the gown, a venous catheter in his left jugular vein and different infusion pumps connected to it. That were the sedatives, they learned. Another blood bag was running, too. Under the sheet, which covered Aidan from chest to toe, were more lines disappearing. One of them, of course, was a urinary catheter. Another two belonged to a strange machine with a water tank. The doctor explained that was the cooling catheter, automatically taking Aidan’s temperature and adjusting the temperature of the cooling water to get the required 34 degrees. The access for it was in Aidan’s right femoral vein while his left femoral artery had the usual access for taking blood gas analyses and constant blood pressure measuring. The doctor told them that usually the radial arteries were used for this, but in Aidan’s case they were not to irritate at any rate. Both of his wrists were dressed in thick white bandages, his hands orange with antiseptic after the surgery. 

After the explanation Liam and Dean were left alone with Aidan. There was a brief moment of silence before the older Turner twin started to cry heartbreakingly for his brother. It didn’t take long before the Kiwi joined in. 

~~~

While spending the rest of the night together at the Irishman’s bedside, Liam and Dean exchanged the few information, they had about Aidan’s change. None of them was able to come up with any ideas about the reasons, but the stories they told were quite similar. It had begun last June with growing disinterest and pleaded exhaustion, then continued in early autumn with growing irritability and lame excuses, and had peaked eventually in complete withdrawal and avoidance since November.

The both of them racked their brains to find an explanation, but gave up as there was nothing available. They came up with the wildest theories, from drugs over being bullied or blackmailed, culminating in wondering if Aidan had been physically abused, maybe even raped. But all of the thoughts had been overruled as soon as they had been vocalised.

Eventually they decided that conceiving theories wasn’t of any help. If they wanted to learn more, they had to wait for Aidan to wake up. In the end, it didn’t matter why Aidan had changed, they would stand by him, come hell or high water. Given that he would let them. 

No one even considered to leave the hospital to get some rest. 

~~~

“I think Aidan had always been in love with you,” Liam suddenly blurted out. “And I would’ve loved to see you both together. You’re a great guy, Deano!”

The Irishman had always known about the friends-with-benefits-thing, as he had been very close to his brother back then. Avoiding a direct answer the Kiwi started to stammer, not wanting to give away he was the one in love with his best friend. What if Aidan could really hear him? 

“Well…uh…I…uh … thanks. But I … I don’t think so! Why would he push me away, when he was in love with me? No, you’re wrong here.”

“I’ve got no idea why he would do that. But I always had the suspicion, ever since he came home from New Zealand. It’s sad, things never worked out for the both of you!”

Dean had no idea how to answer that. Should he tell Liam about the feelings, he had for Aidan? Wouldn’t that be awkward? After all, he probably would tell Aidan, once he was awake. 

“We never even tried and never even talked about that, let alone started a relationship. We’ve only ever been fuckbuddies, nothing else.”

Liam nodded quietly and said nothing, but Dean noticed how his already sad face turned even more mournful. Oh fuck it, it didn’t matter what he told him, for Aidan was going to dismiss him from his life as soon as he opened his eyes. So he could just as well be honest. 

“That doesn’t mean I don’t feel anything for him. On the contrary, I just never noticed until, all of a sudden, he wasn’t in my life anymore,” Dean quietly added. 

Really, why should he lie to Liam? The brunet was just as scared as he was and they were actually bonding over the most horrible thing, one could ever experience. There was no room for dishonesty, especially not if he wanted to fix things with Aidan. 

The Irishman looked surprised and kind of hopeful. “Do you mean…?”

“Yeah, I do. But what does it matter, since Aidan doesn’t return those feelings?”

He quickly cut the Irishman short, whose mouth just opened to protest thoroughly. 

“That’s not relevant, anyway. The only thing, what matters now, is him recovering.”

Truth been told, ‘what could have been if…’ was the last thing, Dean wanted to talk about

~~~

The worst happened, when Aidan started to shiver violently in the early morning hours. Dean knew the Irishman was completely knocked out due to the deep sedation, but it had nonetheless looked as if he was freezing to death. As promised, they injected a muscle relaxant and he went completely still after that. Too still … too cold. When the Kiwi had taken his hand for the first time, he had thought his friend was already dead. Were 34 degrees not supposed to be warm? Well, maybe not compared to body heat, he presumed. 

Anyway, Aidan was ice-cold during the first 24 hours of their wake, and that scared the shit out of him. If it wasn’t for the heart monitor showing a constant heartbeat, he would have assumed the worst.

~~~

In the morning they agreed, leaving for some rest would be ok, since Aidan would be on sedatives until tomorrow night. As promised, Graham had booked them two rooms in a small hotel near the hospital, breakfast included. Although none of them was hungry, they had some oatmeal, the only thing they believed they were able to stomach, before leaving for their rooms to get some rest.

Instead of going off to sleep immediately, Dean called Graham and gave a report of Aidan’s condition and his medical treatment. The Scotsman put him on speaker, so the rest of their friends could listen, too. The Kiwi could hear some snivelling in the background, but recognised only Adam’s choked sobs. Of course they felt guilty and worried themselves sick, the suspense eating them alive. Stephen even asked if Aidan could have visitors, but Dean declined that, since only the closest family circle (made-up husband included) was allowed on the ward in his current state. That Aidan probably didn’t want to have anyone of them in his room, remained unsaid. But the palpable tension, the question had triggered, told Dean, that everybody had that in mind. 

“Deano, there is something I need to tell you. You … uh … you got a letter. I checked you out this morning and the receptionist gave it to me. She told me that it was handed over yesterday, but with the order not to be delivered before today, so she gave it to me. I assume it’s from Aidan.”

Dean gasped, his heartbeat immediately speeding up. Had Aidan written a suicide note for him? All plans involving sleep had been scrapped instantly. Now he was only focussed on the letter and its content. Graham promised to bring it over and did so one hour later.

As soon as the Kiwi was alone again, after helping the Scotsman through a minor breakdown caused by guilt and uncertainty, he ripped the envelope open, sat down on the bed and started to read. 

It was indeed a farewell letter and it recounted Aidan’s downfall from the beginning of shooting Poldark until the events of the day before yesterday. With every line the Kiwi grew more and more desperate, eyes shining with unshed tears. How could he have missed his friend’s anguish and condemned him instead of helping? He was horrified when he learned what happened to him, even if he knew Aidan had spared him the dirty details. 

Aidan had felt uncomfortable on set from day one. The director had never been satisfied with his performance, leaving him feeling miscast. Back then, the Irishman hadn’t wanted to tell anybody, neither family nor friends. He had thought he had to deal alone with it, not wanting to appear ungrateful or picky. It had worsened when every scene had been criticised blisteringly, sometimes Aidan had been even mocked, by both the director and cast-mates.  
In the following months he had developed sleeping disturbances and a lack of energy, which influenced his daily life formatively. He had had trouble to get out of bed in the mornings, to concentrate, to eat. 

Soon he had only existed to work on set. After shooting was done for the day, he had gone to bed, doing nothing but lying in the dark and staring towards the ceiling. His thoughts had run in circles, he had racked his brain all night long, jumping from one thing to another, never finding a solution, never finding rest. 

He had developed an ever growing fear since then. He was afraid of doing things wrong, of work and rejection in general, later even of getting help. Every bad word had set him off and made him wanting to run away and hide. It had left him feeling out of place and poor, inept and disliked. That was why he had started to withdraw himself.

He hadn’t been able to leave his bed on weekends anymore, barely ate and almost never slept. And he had stopped to keep in contact with his loved ones, a thing he regretted later, but believed he couldn’t change it anymore. 

Dean continued reading and started to cry silently. Aidan had been through great misery, feeling insufficient, condemned and unwanted. He choked when he came to the part, where Aidan confessed another suicide attempt two months ago. 

_If he had died back then, then what?_

The Kiwi was desperate when he learned his friend had suffered for months and no one had helped him. Now he wondered why he only had noticed the changes for the worse, the indifference, disinterest and negligence? Why had he never noticed that Aidan was sad, anxious and full of anguish? Worse still, Aidan couldn’t even name the reason of the shifting himself, what had changed or why he didn’t get help at the beginning. 

_“It just started slowly and before I noticed it was too late!”_

But worst of all was that he seemed to blame himself alone for everything. The letter was full of “I’m sorry”, “I apologise” and the implication that “no one could ever forgive” him. Dean noticed the water stained paper and his heart clenched. Aidan had been crying while writing this. 

And then he came to the last paragraph, the one which left him bawling like a little child. 

Aidan referred to the Kiwi’s assumption of only being used by him. He assured him that had never been the case, that Dean had meant more to him than any other human being in the world. That he loved him, was _in love_ with him. 

Dean let out a loud sob when he learned that Aidan had always felt the same way like he did for the Irishman. His body convulsed with the painful realisation that, if he had only been honest with Aidan, he, perhaps, could have rescued him from his fate. There was no way he could go to sleep now. Dean choked on the body-wrecking sobs, wishing for nothing more than to see into Aidan’s eyes and beg for forgiveness. He lay down on his bed and curled into a ball while crying his eyes out.

 

_“I know that you don’t want to hear this and I know you’re happy with your girlfriend. I really don’t want to intrude, you must believe me. For my part, I would have never said anything. But I need you to know, that I never used you or thought of you as ‘convenient’. I was always head over heels in love with you like a stupid teenager!  
I didn’t want to tell you because I couldn’t have borne to see your beautiful eyes fill with even more disgust. I only tell you now because I can’t stand the thought of you thinking I don’t care about you! Really, I do! More than about anybody else. I love you! Always have and always will. I only hope you can find a way to forgive me one day. I am so, so sorry.”_


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can happily announce that The darkest Hour hit the 50k words mark yesterday (and it's not finished, yet). That would have never been possible wIthout your exceptional support. So I want to thank all of you, who read, gave kudos and commented. You guys rock!!! <3 <3 <3

After a hot shower and a fruitless attempt to find some sleep, Dean headed eventually back to the hospital right after noon. If he couldn’t sleep, he could just as well be with Aidan. That was better than tossing around and pondering about the ways he could have helped him, if he only had paid more attention. Maybe they even had news about his condition. Since he assumed Liam to be asleep, he sent him a quick text and left the hotel alone.

When he entered the room, he saw that Aidan’s position had been changed. Someone had turned him slightly to the left side and put a pillow in his back to support him. The next thing, he noticed, was the almost empty urine bag. There was a mark with a time written next to it, 9 a. m. 

_That had been hours ago._

There was a nurse, who gently smiled at him while drawing blood from the venous catheter in Aidan’s jugular.

“He doesn’t produce urine, is that a bad sign?” the Kiwi asked full of concern.

“That’s quite normal, actually. The kidneys don’t seem to like hypothermia, so they don’t work properly. But don’t be afraid, we check his blood for renal failure every few hours. It’s all right for now and the warming up will be started in a few hours. This bag will fill in no time, you’ll see.” 

She smiled friendly and put a hand on Dean’s arm in a comforting gesture. The Kiwi let out a shaky breath and gave her a wavering smile. After she had left, he sat down on the chair on the left side of the bed. He took Aidan’s hand, still startled by how cold it was, and stroked over the knuckles. 

“Hey Aid, I’m here again. You’re not alone!" He hesitated for a moment, then continued, "I got your letter. I know it’s too late now, but I’m so sorry you had to endure all this. I wish I had known.” 

He snivelled and the first tears fell on the sheet, leaving wet spots on the fabric. He rested his head on the edge of the bed and closed his eyes, the Irishman’s hand still in his own and the sound of the breathing machine in his ears.

~~~

It was dark when he woke up. Liam had just entered the room, carrying a few paper bags.

“Hey, I hope I didn’t wake you up. I’d been here earlier, but you were fast asleep. Brought you dinner, is pasta alright?”

“Sure, although I’m not even hungry.”

“You have to eat, there is still so much time left before they even start to reduce the sedatives.”

Liam sat down on the other chair and took his brother’s hand before he softly whispered, “Hey bro, I’m here again. Don’t you think Dean should eat?” 

When he looked at Dean he had tears in his eyes. 

“I called the housecleaner this morning. She went to his place immediately and called me back in the afternoon, shell-shocked and hysteric. She got it fixed, but she said the image will give her nightmares for weeks. How were you able to take that?”

Dean frowned and shrugged his shoulders helplessly. 

“I don’t know, I can’t remember much. I think I was a little distracted with trying to help Aidan. But I broke down afterwards, at least Graham said so.”

Liam sighed, the entire day he had constantly been on the edge. He was overwhelmed with the situation and had some doubts as to whether he could really handle all that alone.

“Without you here, I would've long gone crazy. I will never have a chance to thank you properly for all what you’ve done for me and Aidan. But at least I could try to keep you as sane as you keep me. So please eat”.

And Dean did, after pulling Liam into a bone crushing hug, stroking comfortingly over his back.

“I would go crazy without you as well! Alone the fact you didn’t snap when you learned about the husband thing. We’ll have each other’s back, that’s a promise!”

“Promise!” 

They finally left Aidan to eat in the visitor’s room, at least a few bites until both of them lost the little appetite they had.

~~~

Dean could see the flash of hurt running through Liam when he mentioned the letter. There were tears in his eyes and a look of disappointment and pain shown on his face. 

“Hey, he loved you, you’re his brother. He would never leave without setting things right between you. I’m sure your letter will come to Dublin with the mail, so it hasn’t yet arrived.”

That seemed to comfort the Irishman a little, although he quickly lost his composure when he started to read Dean’s letter. With every line he got more and more distraught, the feeling of guilt and failure seemed to squeeze the air out of his lungs.

“Why didn’t I see?”

“I didn’t either!” Dean gripped Aidan’s hand again and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

”I told you he’s in love with you,” the Irishman whispered.

“Yeah, but what does it matter when he will never speak to me again? I said a ton of horrible things. I broke his heart over and over again. I left him when he needed me the most.”

“So did I.”

“You’re his brother, he loves you unconditionally!”

“He loves you, too. He won’t dismiss you.”

~~~

When the program of the cooling catheter was changed into warming up by a nurse, Dean startled up. He had fallen asleep again. Liam wasn’t in the room. He shot a quick glance on his watch, it was almost midnight. Back home it was almost noon by now, a good time to make a call.

Dean didn’t even know why he told his mother about Aidan’s actual predicament at all, but as soon as he started to talk on the phone, he was unstoppable. Apparently he had needed someone, who was not directly involved, to talk about the issue. 

Although she was shocked about the events, his mother gave him a lot of comfort. She listened patiently when Dean couldn’t continue to speak because he was shaken by another crying fit and tried to take away as much of the guilt as possible. She had always known how to say the right words in the right moments, but Dean noticed that even she wasn’t unaffected. His parents loved Aidan dearly and had been quite upset when things had ended back then.

“I’ll call your manager and agent to cancel your flight and your upcoming appointments. You are needed in London, now. Don’t worry, take all the time you need! And call me whenever you want.”

Soon after he had returned to Aidan’s bedside, Liam entered the room, his eyes red and puffy.

“My parents were finally able to get a flight to Miami, they'll leave in a few hours. Mum’s going nuts and Dad is barely able to keep her calm. This is killing them!”

Dean nodded sadly, knowing how Aidan’s parents must feel. They hadn’t heard from their son in months only to learn now that he almost died from his own hand. And now they got stuck at the other side of the world and weren't able to come to his side immediately. He put his arm around Liam’s shoulder to console him while they sat there in silence. 

“They started the warming up. They said they’ll reduce sedatives in 24 hours when he reaches normal body temperature. In dependence of his condition he’ll wake the day after tomorrow, maybe even in the morning.” The Kiwi smiled hopefully.

“Let’s just hope everything goes well! Although I can’t wait for him to wake up, I also fear that moment.” Liam’s bottom lip started to quiver. “What if he never wants to see us again?”

Dean did his best to stay calm and solacing, but failed at the thought of Aidan’s possible reaction. 

“I don’t want to think about that, it’s possible he kicks me out of the room as soon as he sees me!”

Now it was on Liam to put his arm around Dean’s shoulders, trying to comfort the man, who was pretty shaken by now. 

“I don’t think so. He’ll forgive you, I know that!”

~~~

They left the hospital again in the morning. Since midmornings on the CCU were way more hectic than other times, they had decided to leave for a shower and a nap. They had actually managed to have a little breakfast when Liam’s phone rang.

It was his wife Kathy, the Irishman had kept her informed over the phone during the last day. She had preserved strength through the long hours of their waiting, had consoled and calmed the both of them. But hearing her anxious voice now, thick from tears and shaken, filled them with dread.

“You got a letter from Aidan,” she snivelled, “I’m too afraid to open it.”

But in the end she did and read it out loud for her husband and Dean to hear. It wasn’t much different than Dean’s, telling them about Aidan’s downward spiral again. He assured his brother multiple times that he loved him the most and there where as many apologises as in Dean’s letter. But the things, Liam had been asked to tell their parents and their two best childhood friends, shook the three of them to the core. Aidan had been so regretful, crestfallen and distraught while writing the letter, that it was still palpable, even over the phone. 

Kathy promised to come over as soon as possible, but she wasn’t hopeful it could be arranged within the next two days, as her boss was “a huge, giant dick.” 

She also had informed the two best mates, Liam and Aidan had in Dublin. The Turner twins had known Colin and Sean since their earliest childhood in Clondalkin. After school they all had moved to the capital and kept close contact ever since. Once a year the four of them spend a week or two at Lough Ree, where Colin’s parents had a cabin, doing man stuff like fishing, boating and, of course, drinking. They had kept up that tradition until now. There had only been two exceptions, the time when Aidan had been in New Zealand and last year, when he had disappeared from their lives. They had tried as desperately as Liam to reach him, but had failed like all the others. Now they only waited for Kathy to be free from work until they finally could head off to London. Being there for Aidan was first priority now.

After the call had ended, Dean put an arm around Liam’s shoulders, who had curled up into a ball in his chair. He wasn’t sure if the Irishman could hear him, for he was sobbing loudly. But he wanted to comfort him anyway, knowing exactly how he felt.

“It’s not your fault. And I promise everything will be alright. He won’t reject you. There’s nothing more important for Aidan than family, believe me.” 

~~~

After returning to the hospital freshly showered and dressed, Liam saw that Dean pulled out a ring from his pocket to put it on one of Aidan’s fingers. He had to try where it fitted best. In the end it was, ironically, the left ring finger. 

“What’s that, a fake wedding ring?”

“That’s my Hobbit ring. You know, the entire company got one after shooting was done. It has the Arkenstone on it. Aidan lost his own. Well, actually he forgot it in a hotel in London.”

„Of course he did, we’re talking about my brother, after all!”

The Kiwi chuckled weakly at the statement, knowing it was too true. 

“Uhm … I thought … well. If he awoke while we’re not here … uh … he’ll find it and know he’s not alone.”

Liam’s heart warmed at this. He was glad his brother had people like the kind-hearted Kiwi in his life. Now, all they needed was Aidan to let them back into that life, he mused gloomily.

_First of all Aidan has to return to life at all._


	19. Chapter 19

The awakening was awkward. Usually he would be woken up by his alarm, a loud and cheerful one to get him out of bed in time. Hitting the snooze button for at least 3 times was inalienable on most days. But this time it was different. 

He drifted slowly from a deep, all devouring darkness. It took ages. The darkness lightened from time to time, presaging what might be beyond. In those times he had a feeling of people being around, of quiet murmuring and sometimes crying. But nothing of that was tangible. There was the feeling of something being utterly wrong, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. Somehow he felt out of place. As if he shouldn’t be here, but didn’t know why. And where the hell was here?

With an unknown span of time passing, things became somewhat clearer. There were hectic sounds like the constant beeping of a machine, people shuffling around and voices. He heard someone call his name.

_I know this voice!_

But his mind was clouded. His eyes were heavy and his lids gummy. He also had a severe headache, so he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes at all, no matter how hard he tried.

_What the hell?_

He groaned. The vibration of the sound even worsened the throbbing pain in his head. The sounds were too bright and the light, shining through his closed lids, hurt him. He tried to bring an arm over his face, but couldn’t move it. 

_What’s wrong with me?_

And then it struck him like lightning. 

_I shouldn’t be here! I shouldn’t even be alive!_

He had killed himself, there was no way he could have survived! 

_Why am I awake?_

Was he in hell? Surely it must be that. He had never been a religious person, but suicides went straight to hell. Everybody knew that. 

Someone opened his eyes forcefully and shone with a bright light into them, causing him to groan in pain again. Additionally, there was something stuck in his throat. He tried to cough, but couldn’t manage to get it out. He tried to remove it with his hands only to find them bound to somewhat solid. So much on why he couldn’t move his arms.

Now he was really scared because he didn’t know what was going on. His ears rang, he couldn’t see a thing, his head threatened to explode with pain and he was unable to move. In his panic he started to struggle against his restraints.

_This can’t be a hospital, can it? No, that’s impossible, it can’t be!_

He could hear a voice say, “You should get out now for a while. The awakening is never nice to watch and after all you’ve been through, you shouldn’t see your husband like that.” 

_\----- HUSBAND??? ----- What was the meaning of this?_

He struggled against the bounds again, trying to open his eyes and see something. 

“Give him some more of the lorazepam, so we can extubate him without ruffle. But not too much! I don’t want to have to shove the tube right back in his throat because of another breathing arrest!” 

After a few seconds Aidan suddenly went really calm, the situation didn’t frighten him anymore. To be honest, he felt actually good right now. It was like floating in a slow warm river or lying on a cloud, high in the sky. Suddenly the thing in his throat disappeared, leaving an itchy feeling there, as if he came down with a cold. 

“Breathing is stable, oxygen saturation is good. Let’s make another blood gas analysis and then let him rest.” Someone patted his cheek.

“Hey Mr. Turner, open your eyes for me, can you do that?” 

He could and when he did, he saw the owner of the voice, which had sent someone’s husband out of the room. It was a doctor in blue scrubs with a stethoscope thrown over his shoulders. He was ordered to stick his tongue out and to lift his arms, which wasn’t possible since he was still tied to the bedframe, as he could see now. The doctor noticed that too. Hence he was asked to ball his fists, what sent a wave of pain through his forearms and made him gasp. 

“Seems that you’re with us again. Welcome back, Mr. Turner,” The doctor gave him a warm smile. 

Aidan furrowed is brows in confusion, so the doctor went on.

“We thought we might lose you, when you were admitted. When your husband found you at home you were in a drug induced coma and had stopped breathing. You also suffered from severe blood loss, what sent you to heart arrest eventually. You needed resuscitation. Fortunately the paramedics had already arrived at this time, so you got professional help immediately. Unfortunately two ribs were broken due to the chest compressions. Do you feel any pain right now?” 

“Head,” was all Aidan could whisper, voice cracking from disuse. He could barely follow the doctor’s clarifications, for his head felt as if it was filled with burning cotton wool. Heart arrest? So he Whad indeed been dead, but had been brought back … Who the heck had found him? 

“I’ll inject you something to help with that,” the doctor offered. When it was done he continued his explanation about what happened. 

“Both of your wrists needed operative treatment and you were in need of blood transfusions. You’ll probably feel groggy for a while. Your brother was eager to donate some of it himself, but we were able to dissuade him from that.”

Aidan had a hard time to process what was said. Brother … and husband? He still couldn’t get it. The cloudy feeling still cloaked him. He was exhausted to the bones, maybe due to the sedative he got. His head throbbed and he was dizzy, very very dizzy. 

“Wha … ,” he rasped, voice scratchy and throat hurting. 

“Shhh … take it easy. The restraints will be removed, as soon as you are fully awake and cooperative. They kept you from pulling out your arterial and venous accesses, while the sedation was wearing off. We’ll explain more to you once you are rested. I can only say so much: I don’t know what happened, that had you made this decision. But there are people who love you dearly. I saw them sitting on your bedside, worrying themselves sick. They were here all the time and almost never left for rest or food. You are not alone, I only had to send your husband and brother out of the room to spare them the sight of extubating! So please, rest now and sleep some more, everything else can be worried over when the time is right.” 

Aidan didn’t have a chance to respond as the doctor was gone already. People who loved him? Who had been here worrying about him while he was unconscious? Who should that be? This must be a huge mistake. Maybe the doctor mistook him for another patient? 

He was Aidan Turner, a loser who had failed _again_ to kill himself. A joke figure which had no friends or family left who would care. A failure, someone had rescued. But now he was all alone in a room on a hectic hospital ward, probably some kind of ICU, unwanted and abandoned. 

Tears welled up in his eyes and he was way too weak to keep them from falling. There was no escape from here. They hadn’t removed the ties from his hands and the windows had no handles to open. A deep desperation griped him when he realised that he was stuck. 

Why had he been rescued, for what goddamn reason? It was as if fate itself mocked him. And now he couldn’t even run away. The tears were falling faster and Aidan started to sob violently. Why did this happen to him?

He once more cried himself to sleep. Worn out as he was by blood loss, sedatives and his deep rooted grief, it didn’t take long. If he heard the door open again at all, he deemed it a dream.

~~~

Dean had been so eager after Aidan had woken up, but he and Liam were sent out of the room during the process. It was disappointing, given the fact that they had spent two and a half days waiting, experiencing the progress of hypothermia and warming up at close quarters. And leaving Aidan alone during what he thought was torture gave him chills. 

Later when they were allowed to get in, Aidan had been fast asleep, but his face had been wet. The doctor had ordered that he was not to be awoken, so they waited for at least two hours until he finally moved. He opened his eyes, but didn’t seem to recognise anything around him. He just blinked a few times, unfocussed. Tears were leaking from his eyes and the Kiwi tried to comfort him. He rubbed them off with his thumb and whispered soothing words, ignoring his own wet cheeks. Soon after that, Aidan was out again. After the doctors announced that Aidan would probably be asleep for hours, he and Liam decided to leave again for a shower, as it was still before noon.

~~~

He had a dream of someone holding his hand and crying quietly on his bedside, he didn’t recognise the person, but the voice was strangely familiar and kind of … _comforting_? His cheeks were gently rubbed with a thumb and the voice spoke to him in a soothing manner. The picture blurred and after that, there was only darkness and silence.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I'm late and I'm sorry for that. Real life, work in particular, had been very busy during the last weeks. I hope it gets better soon, but I have no idea if it will (when I take a look on the duty roster it won't).  
> And, to top it all off, I have to proofread my boyfriend's dissertation in _whatever it is, I don't understand it_ , so writing time is really limited at the moment. :-(

The sun had moved on when he awoke for the second time, still so very foggy and weak. He couldn’t even lift his head more than a few inches, his tongue felt thick and sticky as he licked over his dry lips. His headache was better, but his wrists and hands throbbed in pain. He tried to move his arms once again, only to find himself still in restraints. He looked down and found them in thick white bandages. His throat was still itchy and dry. He coughed a few times, but couldn’t get rid of the feeling. He would have loved to have a cup of water, but since he couldn’t move his arms that would be wasted anyway. 

A second look down to his hands let him frown in confusion. There was a ring on his left ring finger that he hadn’t had before. A golden ring with a sigil, but he couldn’t make out the exactly shape. It looked a lot like the ring he had gotten as a Hobbit cast member, the one with the Arkenstone emblem on it. His own was lost, so where did this one come from? And who had it put there? He was still contemplating these questions when the door opened and the doctor from before entered the room. 

“Mr. Turner, glad to see you fully awake. I’m Dr. Stephens by the way. I apologise, I missed introducing myself before. Do you feel any better?” 

Trying to make a sorted and calm impression Aidan put on a friendly face and forced himself to smile weakly. 

_Thank God for the acting!_

“Yeah, I’m better, just a bit weak. Can I go home, soon?” he wanted to say, but it only came out in a throaty whisper. 

The doctor chuckled. “No! Sorry, but you’re far from going home. You only just awoke from a deep sedation we had to put you in for 48 hours to get you through hypothermia and warming up. You needed another 12 hours to wake up. Before that you went through drug-induced breathing arrest and resuscitation due to haemorrhagic shock. You still have a moderate anaemia and we need to monitor your breathing after such an amount of drugs, you throw into yourself” 

Aidan frowned, biting his lower lip. 

“I didn’t mean any offense, I’m sorry. But you’re still not out of the woods. Probably you’re not even able to walk right now. We need a few more days to watch over your circulation, your healing wounds and your broken ribs.” Aidan gave an understanding nod and sighed in defeat. 

“And there’s something else …”, Dr. Stephens continued, suddenly shifting uncomfortably. “Since you attempted suicide we must be sure you’re not suicidal anymore before discharging you. That’s why a psychiatrist will come to see you tomorrow or the day after.” 

At the sight of Aidan’s gobsmacked face he added apologetically “Sorry, so are the rules!” 

He couldn’t believe it, was this really necessary? But then he remembered why he was here. All the sleepless nights, the self-doubts and fears, the insecurity and anxiety attacks, all the neglecting and hiding. Maybe it was time to talk to someone professionally, on the other hand he couldn’t see any benefit if he did. Talking wouldn’t bring his family or friends back. Talking wouldn’t make Dean forgiving him either. So why start with it at all?

The doctor sat down and said in a gentle voice, “Things must have been really tough lately. Otherwise you wouldn’t have taken that step. I really hope with the support of your family you can reconsider things and see them in a new light. Do you still feel the need of ending your life right now?” 

Aidan hesitated. Off course he did, why would he not? But admitting this now would buy him a ticket to the next mental hospital. From there he wouldn’t return so easily. 

So he answered with a firmly voice, “No, I don’t. Guess I need to face my problems instead of running away.” 

_I should send a Thank You card to my acting coach at Gaiety School!_

“So, can I trust you not to do something stupid while you are in this hospital?” 

_This guy is quite adamantly…_

Aidan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

“I won’t, I promise.” 

The doctor looked doubtfully and cocked one brow. 

“Well, you must have been very serious about what you did. This was not a harmless attempt like the most other patients do. Not the usual cry for help or an act of getting attention. You really must’ve meant it. And you were pretty close to get what you wanted. It was pure luck that your husband found you and that your circulation gave out only when the paramedics were on site already.”

Aidan’s face faltered, for the doc was goddamn right. He _had_ meant it, and still did. 

“I did mean it, but now the circumstances are different and I won’t try to kill myself.” 

“What kind of different circumstances do you mean?”

_Will he never give up?_

“Well you mentioned my brother and my husband. So I assume they’ll come to see me soon. I’m sure we can clear out our differences.” 

_And the Oscar goes toooo…_

Although Aidan was able to show confidence and hope on his face he crumbled internally and felt on the edge of tears again. The thought of his brother hurt deeply and he couldn’t even imagine how mad he might be right now. Surely the hospital had called him and forced him to fly to London to make some decisions or something like that. He must be livid that his selfish brother stole his time, even after he rejected him completely.

The doctor smiled at his answer, never doubting the truth behind the words. “So I see no need for those anymore.” And with that he opened the restraints with a special magnetic key and released Aidan’s arms. Before the Irishman could say anything else, Dr. Stephens had left the room.

Aidan sat there in silence, being left alone with his confusion. He tried hardly to collect all the facts he had learned from the doctor’s monologue about his condition. The sedated state, he was still in, didn’t help with thinking either. All he wanted was to go back to sleep, preferably without waking up again, but that was not going to happen and he knew that. He was stuck here and all he had left was a probably raging brother and a person, who was held to be his hubby. Or maybe, if he was lucky, the doctor had just mistaken him for an entirely different patient. It was an ICU, after all. They must have a dozen suicide attempts lying around here! 

But his lurching stomach and the tight feeling around his chest proved him wrong. He didn’t believe, not only for a second, that he had been mistaken by the doctor. Liam would come soon and then … yeah, what would he do? Probably shouting. He wouldn’t hit him, would he? No, never! Most likely he would never approach him and just leave London as soon as he heard from the doctor his brother had survived. 

_Will he tell Mum and Dad?_

Aidan’s eyes went wide at that thought. Images of his mother, pounding on his door and refraining his third attempt that way, crept up in his mind. The one attempt which had to be final! No, it was hopeless. He had to stay here until further notice. 

_Breathe._

For once, this seemed to work and he could clear his mind of all the unwanted thoughts. Instead he went back to collecting the facts.

Obviously, as he was alive and in a hospital, someone had found him. He wracked his brain, who that someone could have been. But there was no one, who came to his mind. Maybe a neighbour or the housekeeper?

_Maybe … could it have been … him?_

He scolded himself for that stupid idea as soon as it was built in his mind. There was absolutely no way that any cast member had come to his house and found him. It was only wishful thinking, stupid and naïve. It was only his mind clawing to the last straw it came up with to prevent further damage.

Balling his hands into fists, he shamefully fought back the unshed tears his preposterous brainlessness had caused.

That was when he felt it. His hands were quite numb, but the chunky piece of metal felt so unfamiliar on his left hand that it had to be real, not a hallucination, like he had originally assumed. The ring was still there. Aidan tried to have a closer look at it. Sitting up was no option due to the bone-deep weakness he felt, so he had to lift his arm over his face. That task alone took him all the strength he had left. 

It was indeed an Arkenstone ring. Someone must have given it to him, even put it on his finger. He thought hard, but no one of his cast-mates would come into his mind. But it had to be someone of the cast. No-one else had those rings.

_What’s the meaning of this?_

In the back of his mind, the vague but adamant hope arose again. Could Dean have received his letter and forgiven him, so he had brought the ring as a symbol of company? 

_No, that’s ridiculous!_

The painkiller, he had gotten from the doctor, must have been really strong that his mind was so messed up now. 

_Yeah, that's from all the drugs._

He didn’t even notice the single tear running down his cheek as the tiny bit of hope crumbled. And then it hit him.

_Oh my god the letters......!_

With a jolt he remembered the two farewell letters he had not only written, but also _sent_. By now they must have had arrived their destinations. But he was still alive, how could he ever possibly live with the embarrassment? Everyone would think his suicide attempt had been a stupid act of attracting attention. It would only increase the bad opinion everybody had of him. Maybe even the press would get wind of it. In that case he would be screwed forever.

_I_ am _screwed, no matter who knows and who not._

The thought hit him hard and his throat tightened once again, his chest feeling like if it was on fire. His breathing hitched and suddenly he couldn’t breathe at all. There were those black dots dancing in front of his eyes, quickly melting into ponds. His ears were ringing and the world turned suddenly grey. 

_I’m suffocating in a hospital room. That’s really pathetic._

While Aidan lost consciousness again his last coherent thoughts went to Dean and his farewell letter to him. 

_I should have never told him._

~~~ 

The third time Aidan awoke to the sight of a man sitting on his right bedside. He slowly blinked his eyes open, starring in confusion, his vision was blurred and his mind foggy. It took him a few more moments to notice that he was still alive and that his breathing was calm now.

_I’m such a loser._

He needed a few more blinks to recognise the guy at his bedside as Liam, his beloved, now surely mad, twin brother. Aidan’s first impulse was to panic, but then he noticed that something was off. That person didn’t look like a furious ‘I scowl you to death’ Liam. This was a sad and desperate Liam, worn out and sorrowful. His brother held his right hand in his own, stroking over the knuckles with his thumb. He looked terribly exhausted with dark circles under puffy, red eyes and stubble covering the usual well-shaved face. Hell, his twin looked as if he’d been crying for hours. He enclosed Aidan’s hand in between his own ones and lowered his head, pressing his forehead slightly to the fingers. 

“I’m so sorry. Come back, please!”

Aidan stirred involuntarily at the whispered words, clearly confused by the unexpected gesture, and caused Liam to look up. The world froze and time seemed to stand still when two pairs of chocolate brown eyes met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, there's interaction coming up in the next chapters. Honestly, there's so much interaction you'll be bored to death!


	21. Chapter 21

Despite of the words he just had heard Aidan’s heart pounded wildly in his chest and his mouth went dry. He opened it a few times o say something, but was at a loss for words. Instead his brother started to speak. Or rather to stutter. 

“G-god Aid, you … you’re awake! I was so scared, so goddamn scared. I ... I thought you were g-going to die,” Liam stammered, looking relieved and afraid at the same time. 

“I … I was sitting here for hours hoping you would finally wake up after being already awake twice this morning and now … now I really don’t know what to say.” He laughed nervously, voice wavering. 

Aidan’s heart was on his tongue. The last time he had seen his brother in person had been nine months ago. _Nine months!_ He had climbed in his tub the other day in the belief that he would never see him again. Now he sat there, looking broken and destroyed, and Aidan wondered if he had been wrong. Maybe he wasn’t mad at him. Could he be worried? Even scared? Because that was how Liam looked like. Aidan was torn between feeling overjoyed and scared to death. The urge to babble extensive apologies was huge, but that would probably be the wrong move, as Liam would surely be immensely annoyed by this. 

Aidan could see his brother’s eyes suddenly watering. He also noticed the slightly snivel and his lips, which were squeezed into a thin white line. He seemed to be on the edge. His look spoke of devastation, grief and fear, an expression Aidan had hoped to never see on his brother’s face. He felt the familiar guilty feeling in his guts and the burn of upcoming tears in his own eyes and suddenly started to sniffle as well. 

The frozen moment lasted for some more seconds until they both started to speak at the same time. It was rather a small whisper on both sides than articulated speech though. 

“I am so sorry”, they both said similarly, before Liam gave in to his tears which caused Aidan to weep bitterly as well. He tried to sit up again, but failed miserably, his body still refusing any physically work.

“I am so…so sorry you had to go through… this. I failed you completely and … let you down when … when you needed me the most. I can’t even … imagine what you’ve been through. God I … I kicked you out!” Liam choked out between sobs. 

Based on Aidan’s confused looks he added: “I got your letter … I … I am the reason you wanted to end your … your life and … and I can’t tell you how deeply sorry I am. I forsook you instead of … of suspecting something could be wrong, that you could be … be unwell or worse.”

Aidan shook his head vividly. “N-no, Li-Liam, it…it’s not your f-fault, it was m-me….” 

But he was interrupted by a sobbing brother who took his face in his hand and pressed their foreheads together while holding him tight. As Aidan wasn’t able to sit up himself, Liam had kind of lifted him into his arms and held him with one arm, feeling how his brother tensed immediately, but started to relax again after a few seconds. 

“I missed you so much that I got mad at you instead of offering help. I don’t have words to express how much I regret that. I should have…”

“Y-you couldn’t have known.”

“But…”

“No … You couldn’t have!”

“My brother, my precious baby brother…”

At any other moment in their life that moment of extremely close physical contact might have seemed odd. But all the twins could feel now was the sublime wave of relief washing over them. 

“I was so scared, I was afraid we could lose you any second. I’m so glad Dean and Graham found you!” Liam blurted out, what made Aidan gasp. 

“Dean? B-but he …? A-and Graham? How?” 

“Dean told me everything what happened, including your argument in the hotel and the incident in the café. He felt so bad and repented his words that he went after you with Graham only to find you in the bathtub. You were almost dead. They saved your life, Aid!” 

Aidan looked as if his brother had just told him the world was a disc. Then he shook his head and looked suddenly all sad and teary. 

“Dean hates me, he thinks…he thinks I’m arrogant and… self-regarding. And that I fancy myself and consider me as…as someone better. But I don’t, Liam. I really don’t. I…” 

Aidan started sobbing again as the memory of the overheard conversation hit him again. His brother pulled him into a hug and turned him slightly towards the left side of the bed. 

“Shush, brother mine! Does that look as if he hated you?” 

Aidan was stunned. There he was, the love of his life, sitting on a chair, soundly asleep, his body bent forward and his head resting on his arms which were propped up on the edge of his bed. He looked pale, his eyes were puffy and he had the same dark circles under them like his brother had. 

Aidan let out the breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding, still not able to process the picture. 

“Graham told the paramedics and the staff at the A&E that Dean is your husband so he could get to you! It’s been almost three days now and he’d barely left this room. He’s blaming himself for all that. We actually had quite a battle about who is to blame the most,” he laughed bitterly. 

While his brother filled him in, Aidan couldn’t take his eyes off Dean. The blond’s head was only a few inches away from his hand. The Irishman couldn’t resist to stroke slightly over the soft golden curls. 

Dean usually used to be dead to the world when he was asleep, but now he wasn’t and began to stir slowly. Although Aidan hastily retracted his fingers he couldn’t stop Dean from waking up. The Kiwi slowly blinked his eyes open and looked up to him. 

“Aid, you’wake, m’sorry, jus’ fell’sleep!”

He looked confused and dishevelled, his curls sticking in every direction off his head. Then he suddenly realised where he was and why. He inhaled sharply and sat up right, a startled expression on his face which was quickly replaced with fear. His looks were close to a dear in the headlights.

“Aid … you … I … I’m so sorry! I … I don’t know what to say.”

Aidan was actually terrified what Dean might say next. He cringed subliminally and curled into himself, while starting to cry all over again. All that façade holding and playing the invincible and strong actor had worn him out beyond measure. It was impossible to put on a brave face any longer. He awaited the snarky comment from Dean’s mouth every second now.

_“You mean nothing to me anymore.”_

But the expected hateful words never came. His voice was hoarse when he finally started to speak again. He even dared to look at the Kiwi, eyes wide and dark with panic.

“Dean….I…I know y-you think I consider m-my…myself … something b-better. But I d-don’t, I really… really don’t!” 

He was so terrified Dean would leave for good that he got all worked up and blustered fully into his fear of being rejected again. At the same time the Kiwi was so aghast at Aidan’s babbling that he couldn’t say anything to sooth the brunet in his panic-like condition. All he could do was to sit there and stare at Aidan in disbelief, mouth agape. 

“…it’s a-actually the…the opposite. I hate…hate m-myself so much a-and … and a-all I’ve done…it was…j-just”. Aidan had trouble breathing while he choked out the words, shaken by violent sobs. 

“I fucked up so…so r-royally and I…I …I’m the w-worst person…” 

After finally regaining his composure, Dean stopped him before he could go into a full mental breakdown. He felt the urge to slap himself for letting Aidan rant against his own person for so long.

“You’re not, I am! I got the letter you sent me. You struggled so hard and I … and the others … we feel so bad for saying all those stupid things … I mean … we drove you into suicide!” 

Aidan’s teary brown eyes went wide at these words. For the first time since his he had woken up he took a closer look at Dean’s face. His blue eyes were read rimmed and puffy, the dark circles standing even more out now that Dean sat upright and the dazzling light in the hospital room didn’t help either. The reddish-blond stubble had grown into a short beard and he seemed to have aged for at least 5 years.

“You didn’t,” he whispered. “I made this… decision weeks ago, I had mapped out my … my arteries in the morning to get a clear cut _before_ I went into the café. Your little chat had nothing to do with that.” 

But he couldn’t hide the hurt he felt when re remembered the words and of course Dean noticed that, too. The guilt seemed to strangle the Kiwi and he felt nauseous.

“But you made this decision because your so-called best friend wasn’t able to forgive you and to see that there was something totally wrong with you. I blamed you all alone instead of realising you had problems and I accused you to have your head in the clouds…God, I hurt you so much!” 

All the fear, despair and exhaustion of the last three days caught up with Dean, when he suddenly burst into tears himself. He launched himself onto the bed and took the shocked brunet into his arms, rocking him slightly. Aidan tensed at first, but relaxed after a few seconds and curled up against the blond, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Dean couldn’t fight the urge to stroke his dark hair and press a kiss on his left temple. He had come just too close to losing him. He only hoped Aidan wouldn’t mind. But if Aidan had noticed, he didn’t let it show. He melted completely into the touch after a few more moments. The long months spent in loneliness without any kind of physical contact had taken their toll on him. 

They sat there for a while, crying and holding each other tightly, blocking the world out. Suddenly Liam’s wavering voice came from the other side of the bed. He had fresh tear streaks on his cheeks too. 

“Don’t forget your twin brother who once had sworn to never hurt you again and always have your back. Aidan. I’m so sorry. I should have noticed, instead I called you names and abandoned you.” 

Aidan shook his head and sobbed “No…no, it’s fine. It’s my fault, my decision. I was an arse and I apologise.” Liam and Dean opened their mouths to protest, but Aidan interrupted.

“Can we just leave it for now…..please? I’m so tired and I just…I… I don’t know. I don’t want to talk that out now.” Aidan sank back into his pillow, looking miserable and worn out.

Dean nodded and Liam said, “Maybe you’re right. Just relax, okay? You have a long way of recovery ahead. Ma and Da are on their way. They were horrified and set off to London immediately, but they were held up, so they couldn’t be here earlier.”

If he could have expected his brother’s violent reaction to his words, he would have kept quiet.

“Oh fuck, the holidays! I ruined their holidays! Li, they’d wanted that for years. And now I’d ruined everything and they‘ll be so mad. I ignored Ma’s birthday and I didn’t come home for Christmas. And I’m this pathetic crying mess full of stupid anxiety.” 

The thought of his parent’s revulsion brought him on the verge of a panic attack again. He was nearly hyperventilating and had started to gasp. His eyes went wide and glimpsed aimless through the room and he started to fight his duvet in a weak attempt to get out of bed. 

“They will be so disgusted and angry. They will … they … oowwww!” Aidan cringed as he accidently squeezed his broken rips, which sent a flash of pain through his chest. That caused Dean to help him into a sitting position again, supporting him from the left side and hugging him tightly. 

“Aid! Hey Aid, stop that! Don’t be an idiot and hurt your ribs! They are not angry with you! They were both devastated, but only because they feared for your life. Heck, you almost died and were in a coma-like state during the last days! They were terrified to hear what happened and they immediately changed bookings to be able to get home. Not to be upset with you, but to be _there_ for you. To give you comfort and help with …I don’t know…all this shit that happened. And by the way, so are Dean and I.”

And in a much lower tone he added, “I hope you can accept our support after all wat happened.”

“Oh”, Aidan whispered meagrely, looking lost and unbelieving. He seemed surprised, but relaxed a little bit. Although Liam had a point, he was still scared of the way his parents might react. The tears freely ran down his cheeks again and he noticed that Dean and Liam couldn’t stop crying either. They were just too appalled by Aidan’s strong reaction. How bad must his anxiety be if he was so terribly afraid even of his own parents, although they had never done any harm to him? 

_I’m such a wimpy crybaby._

Aidan felt like utter shit, confused and ashamed of his behaviour at the same time. He was completely overwhelmed with contrasting emotions, fear, relief, love, disgust, shame. How would he ever be able to deal with that? And now he had made Dean and Liam cry again. When had they started again? Had they ever paused? Had he himself had a dry moment during the last 30 minutes?

Everybody was on the verge of a meltdown and all of it was his fault. How could they still love him, when he was bawling like a toddler whose candy got stolen? On the other hand why would they have stayed in the hospital for such a long time if they didn’t care? Maybe it was true? Maybe he had just gotten another chance? 

“Li, they’ll have a psychiatrist to come within the next days. Do you think they will send me to a mental clinic?” Aidan whispered eventually.

“I hope not! But on the other hand ... Honestly, you are in need for help, Aid! This self-accusation of yours is not healthy! You can’t take all the blame, when we let you down!” 

Dean nodded, his eyes red and watery. “But maybe that’s nothing to discuss now.” He tightened the grip around Aidan and pulled him close again, using one hand to stroke through the dark tangled curls. 

And so they sat for what felt like hours. Liam and Dean were on the edges of the bed, both holding Aidan in between them, while the younger Irishman leaned on Dean, burying his face in the Kiwi’s neck. The three of them could finally give in to the overboiling emotions they had fought hard to keep inside. The angst and the desperation along with guilt and regret, which had settled deep in their hearts, carved their way out of them as they wept in silence.


	22. Chapter 22

They sat there for a very long time, crying and holding each other tightly. Dean was on Aidan’s left and Liam on his right side and none of them were able to speak more than two words in a row. Dinner was brought for the patient at some point but he didn’t care. All what mattered right now was the two people on his bedside who still hugged him tightly. He was far from feeling well, but to feel again what it meant to be loved by family and friends was all he needed at the moment to hang on after all. 

Thankfully Dean hadn’t mentioned the love confession in the letter but he wouldn’t get away with that, he knew that. But the Kiwi didn’t seem to be too mad at him. On the contrary, he was quite snuggly, holding him tight and stroking his hair. Heck, he’d even kissed his temple!

_Could he…? No!!! Don’t start seeing things! That’s all out of relief and guilt!_

After what felt like hours they had all calmed down a bit. Aidan had dried his eyes and cheeks with a tissue and was about to drift back to sleep, hair still being stroked by Dean, when suddenly the door was torned open and a small, dark haired woman stormed into the room, followed by a tall man with grey hair. The Turner twin’s eyes widened simultaneously as they noticed the resolute look in their mother’s face. 

Being aware of Eileen Turner’s stormy nature had been something they had learned very early in their lives. Liam was about to step forward and putting himself between his vulnerable brother and their mother when the look in her eyes suddenly turned to smooth to sad to desperate. Her eyes filled with tears and her voice was breathless. 

“My boy! Oh my god, what were you thinking?“ 

Aidan looked into her face forlornly. The fear of his parents being repelled and livid consumed his mind and made his heartbeat sped up. He didn’t even dare to look at his father, who surely would be fuming. And why would he not? They had to discontinue their long planned holidays in South America, for which his parents had longed since years. The one thing they had always dreamed of, ruined by their unthankful, pathetic, stupid brat of a son, who was unable to solve his problems like a man should.

He wasn’t able to find any words, so he only shrugged his shoulders helplessly, eyes red and wet again. He couldn’t hold eye contact with his mother any longer and dropped his gaze to stare in his lap, chewing on his lower lip. As soon as Eileen saw the fresh tears, she launched herself to her son’s side and took him into her arms, pushing Liam inadvertently to the side. 

“Oh my dear boy, what were you thinking? What happened to you that you ever got so desperate to see only _this_ way out?” she whispered franticly and started to rock her crying son, unable to hold back her own tears. She didn’t even expect any answers, she only needed to get rid of the questions she had asked herself ever since the call from her older son. 

Of course, she had suspected something might be wrong, ever since Aidan had changed, but in the end she had shrugged it off. She had assumed he was just busy and distressed. And so she reluctantly had let him go because she had thought with some space he would come to terms and be back to his old self soon. What a huge mistake that had been. She had discussed this forth and back with her husband on the long flight to London, though they had spent the main part of the time crying, worrying sick and reassuring one another that her son would pull through and survive. 

Now that she saw him so full of pain and despondency, frightened even of his own parents, it broke her heart all over again. She held him close, even clung to him. When she felt the bed on the other side dip and Aidan tensing up, she knew her husband had joined them. Instead, Dean had gotten up and moved towards the door. She shook her head rapidly and asked him to stay.

“You were here all the time, please don’t feel excluded. I can’t thank you enough for what you did, so please stay!”

Although the Kiwi looked quite confused he took a seat on one of the chairs and watched the scenery, still slightly nervous. Satisfied she turned back to her younger son, who was still in her arms, all tensed and trembling. She never knew why, but Aidan had always been apprehensive what his father might think about him. Always concerned Pat could be disappointed, although he had never done anything to confirm those demurrals. So right now he must be afraid of his Da rejecting him, she sensed, or maybe even the both of them. She wanted to say something, but her husband bet her to it, his voice already wavering.

“God Aidan, we went insane with fear for your life! I’m just so relieved you are awake!” 

Aidan, who had started to sob anew, looked at him with huge watery brown eyes, still incapable of speaking. 

“Just promise you’ll live, please promise me that. Promise you’ll live, you have to live, please!”

His father jabbering frantically shook Aidan to the core. It never had dawned to him that someone could indeed be emotionally affected with his death.

_Well,_ almost _death._

He peered around shyly, seeing his frightened father and his desperate mother holding him still tight, Liam and Dean didn’t look much better. All of them looked pale and tired and they seemed to have aged a few years since the last time he saw them. He suddenly felt a pang of guilt as he realised, that he was the reason for all the pain and worry.

_I did that to them._

It was his bad conscious what gave him the ability to speak eventually.

“I…I didn’t want to…frighten you. I didn’t…didn’t even want to get… any of you …involved,” he hiccupped quietly, obviously shaking. 

“It was just…I was so…so scared, so…lonely. I couldn’t imagine…there was no…I couldn’t imagine how…how I could possibly live this way…I missed you so much…really ….but I was so afraid…so afraid you wouldn’t have me back. I ignored your birthday … and Christmas. I didn’t call so…so you couldn’t hang up on me. I was so frightened of you telling me…to…to fuck off.” 

His breathing hitched and he lifted his hands to hide his face, while sobbing loudly in despair. Surely they all might be leaving soon, annoyed and repulsed by his whiny demeanour. No one wanted to deal with a disgraceful wimp like him. Aidan’s parents held their trembling son through his second breakdown of the day, Liam and Dean sat nearby on the foot of the bed. No one said a word, as the shocking revelations of Aidan’s seemingly twisted mind dismayed them. Pat looked helplessly to Liam as he rubbed soothing circles on his younger son’s back, trying to process what he had said, while Eileen, clearly shocked, left her position on Aidan’s right side, starting to pace through the room.

“We would’ve never done that, none of us,” she exclaimed, gesturing wildly. “You must know that! I can’t imagine what made you think this way. I really don’t understand what happened to you, as I can feel we are missing out a great part of it. I want to know…”

“Ma, just stop!” Liam interrupted her frantic ranting, for he could see that her outburst distressed his younger twin even more. Aidan had curled up into a ball still hiding his face and wailed distraughtly. Eileen stopped immediately, startled by her own behaviour and by the picture of misery, Aidan was. 

“I can fill you in the details later, ok? Although I think Dean and I still don’t know all of it, but we are two days ahead of you. We were able to put together the most of the puzzle pieces while Aidan was unconscious. But for fuck’s sake, please leave him alone, ok?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m so sorry, baby!” 

She wasn’t sure Aidan could hear her words, for he seemed to break down completely. But that was already taken care of since Dean had hurried to his side to soothe him. The blonde had wrapped one arm around Aidan’s waist and carded the fingers of his free hand through his hair as he whispered comforting words into the brunet’s right ear. For the first time since their arrival she noticed how much weight her son had lost and how obviously broken he looked. How could she have missed that before? In that moment it dawned to her how close she and her husband had really come to lose their child and suddenly all strength left her body.

She let herself down next to her older son and whispered, “thank you for being there for him.”

Liam let out a shaky breath. “I wasn’t, that’s why he’s here now!” 

Eileen only shook her head. “You’re not to blame!”

Silence settled down in the room, only disrupted by Aidan’s declining sobs. In the end, it took him almost half an hour to calm down completely. And even after that time he was unable to see in anyone’s eyes, let alone to speak. His gaze was fixed in his lap and he chewed on his lower lip again, obviously struggling with the urge to say something and the fear of any bad reactions. When he finally spoke his voice was raspy and sounded nasal from crying.

“I don’t know how to carry on,” he breathed barely audible. 

“We’ll find a way,” his father answered in a reassuring voice. “You may have given up on yourself right now, but we haven’t. And I know we will find a way to sort this out. Together, all of us!”

Aidan turned his red teary eyes on him looking utterly shattered. 

“How?” he whispered.

“We’ll see about that”, Eileen added, “by now all what matters is that you know that you are not alone and that we love you, no matter what happened and what will happen.”

“Do you? Really?”

“Oh baby, of course. How could we not?”

She bent down to him to press a kiss to his forehead and when she lifted her head again, there was the tiniest hint of a smile on her son’s face.

“Aid, we’ll be always by your side through all shit life throws at you, remember that. Always! We didn’t mean to leave you in the first place, we just…thought you left us.”

Aidan shook his head weakly and Liam, who had made his way to his brother’s side again, wrapped him in a strong hug which his brother thankfully accepted. 

A nurse chose this very moment to enter the room quietly. 

“Excuse me, I know it’s bad timing, but our visiting time is long over and Mr. Turner here really needs to rest properly, he even hasn’t had any dinner. You could all return tomorrow to see him on general ward, as he’ll leave the CCU in the morning. They’re not as strict there with visitor’s hours as we are.” She smirked apologetically.

The thought of his family and Dean leaving sent ice-cold-shivers along Aidan’s spine. What if they never returned to him? His mother seemed to sense his distress and hugged him again.

“We’re coming back tomorrow, that’s a promise. Don’t you even dare to doubt that, ok?”

How his mother was always capable of sensing his feelings and saying the right words in the right moment, had been always a mystery to him. Maybe that’s what mothers do? Anyway, the words helped to ease the fear and gave him a little hope. Maybe they were indeed able to sort things out? Could that be possible? 

His family said their goodbyes and just as Dean wanted to get up too, the nurse added with a smile, ”you can stay with your husband a little while longer, maybe you could help him eating dinner?”

The Kiwi blushed, not knowing that Aidan already knew about the lie. He could only hope Aidan’s parents didn’t overhear that, but since they were already out of the room his chances were high.

“Liam told me. It’s fine.” Aidan’s meagre voice shook him out of his musings.

The Kiwi, still nervous about the topic, picked up the plastic tray with Aidan’s food. It was just a light meal, a creamy soup and a floppy sandwich. 

“Seems like they don’t want to stress your stomach too much.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Looking over Aidan’s skinny form the Kiwi suddenly remembered something from the café. It had been Stephen’s discovery.

_“Did you see he doesn’t eat?”_

“Aidan, when was the last time, you had something to eat? And lunch at the first studio day doesn’t count, you barely touched anything.”

The Irishman could only shrug, as he didn’t knew when he had the last real meal. Because of his eating troubles he had avoided big meals and rather had little snacks from time to time. And that was exactly what he told Dean now, deciding that honesty was a first step towards reconciliation. 

The Kiwi was aghast, immediately looking guilty again. But he was adamantly for Aidan at least to try to eat. So they decided to go for the soup, although none of them were able to point out the flavour by tasting.

As it turned out, Aidan wasn’t able to hold the spoon properly, as his fingers felt numb and were barely movable under the thick layers of dressings. He tried hard to not give any of this away, but Dean noticed it immediately and took the spoon.

“Just a few spoonful, just relax into your pillow and don’t think about the non-taste” he smirked.

In the end, Aidan managed almost the entire bowl of the undefinable soup, being caringly fed spoon by spoon. They even tried the sandwich, but after the first bite Aidan pulled a face which was mirrored by Dean when he had a bite for himself.

“That’s no food, that’s bodily harm!”

He almost cheered loudly when the brunet answered with a small laugh. After he had put the tray away Dean shifted a bit closer, wrapping his arms around the brunet again. He was careful to not squeeze him too much, as his broken rips must still hurt. The Kiwi suddenly felt like crying again, but did all to keep the tears at bay to not give Aidan any more distress.

“I missed this, I missed you!” Dean murmured quietly.

“I missed you, too. I may not have acted like I did, but really…”

“Don’t stress, Aid. I believe you! Fuck, I don’t want to leave you here all alone!”

“I’d rather have you here with me too, but you stayed here for three days. You really need a good night’s sleep.” 

After a few seconds he added with a sheepish smile, “I am ready to pass out for myself, I have to admit.” 

They sat there for a few more minutes in comfortable silence before Aidan whispered, “Thank you.”

Dean leaned in to kiss Aidan’s temple once more and the brunet let his eyes fall shut. 

_Don’t hope, he deserves better!_

But it felt so good, he couldn’t help but have a little hope despite his doubts. A few days ago he had never thought that possible and now Dean was speaking to him in a kind way without reproaches, even holding him. 

“What your parents said also includes me, I won’t leave you again. I fight with you through this, at whatever cost!”

Dean continued to stroke Aidan’s hair, feeling that the Irishman was only half-conscious and almost asleep.

“Bu’yo’ve a life’f yo’own,” Aidan mumbled quietly.

“You are my life! I know that now.” 

And with that he gave Aidan’s hand a final squeeze, pressed a feather-light kiss to his forehead and left the room to give him his badly needed sleep, not knowing if the brunet had heard his last words.


	23. Chapter 23

When the light in his room was suddenly switched on and he felt a gentle hand placed on his forearm, he wasn’t even startled because of the bone-deep fatigue he felt. His lids were heavy and the effort to open his clotty eyes was just too much. 

He still debauched in a dream he believed he had had, although he wasn’t really able to grasp it. There was the vague feeling of warmth and closeness in his chest and he tried hardly to fall back to sleep to return there.

_“You are my life!”_

He turned away from the cruel person, who was determined to wake him, but with no success as they shook his arm gently now.

“Mr. Turner, it’s almost seven in the morning, it’s time to get up.”

“Huh…?”

He blinked at the merciless nurse, but his vision was still blurred. What the hell had happened? Right, he was in hospital, but Dean had just left a few seconds ago, had he not? Was it really morning yet? That would have meant he had slept through an entire night without nightmares, let alone waking up and tossing around. He tried to sit up and, unlike the day before, his body actually seemed to obey. With the help of the nurse he got into a sitting position only to find a bowl with steaming water, soap and a washcloth on the nightstand beside his bed.

“We actually let you sleep as long as possible, as you need it desperately. But now we really have to wake you for morning routine and preparing the transfer to the general ward. Do you think you can sit on the edge?”

He really thought he could, but after sitting there for not even a minute the nurse suddenly ordered him to lie down again and pushed him back to bed eventually. Aidan didn’t understand why, his mind suddenly felt foggy and his vision blackened while his ears were ringing. Did she inject him with another sedative? Why?

Another minute went by and he started to feel better. The darkness retrieved and his hearing increased while he broke into a cold sweat. But he couldn’t quite remember how he had gotten back in the bed. And why were his legs propped up?

“Are you with us again? I think sitting is not the best idea right now. Maybe you can try again in the afternoon when you have visitors to help you and some food in your stomach. You’ll be not able to walk around alone for another few days, I’m afraid.”

“Wha … happ’nd?”

“You just fainted while sitting in front of the washing bowl, but I was able to get you back into bed without further incident. It’s the blood loss.”

The rest of the morning procedure was done by the nurse, Aidan only had to brush his teeth, which was barely manageable due to the thick dresses and the weakness, which made his limbs unbelievable heavy. He longed for a hot shower, feeling the need to rinse off all the bad events from the last days. Well, and his hair badly needed washing too, he noticed. But his physical condition didn’t allow such actions at the moment.

Routine done, the nurse removed the remains of the accesses and catheters which still stuck inside of the Irishman. With embarrassment he noticed the urinary bag hanging beside his bed. Had Dean noticed it as well? Hopefully not!

The nurse seemed to sense his discomfort and explained that there was nothing to be ashamed of, that every CCU patient was full of catheters, tubes and accesses and that it was necessary. The arterial access in his groin and the urinary catheter were removed quickly. The venous catheter in his jugular remained, in case he needed further infusions or even more blood transfusions. 

After that she started to change the dresses around his wrists. When they were completely unwound Aidan peaked carefully at the wounds. They looked awful, almost 4 inches long, his wrists were swollen and blue, the black stitches standing out against the skin. With a pang of regret he realised that he would wear these scars for the rest of his life. His feelings must have shown on his face, since the nurse gave him a reassuring smile and hurried to sooth him.

“They look exactly like the wounds after a surgically treated forearm fracture. You could tell that to people, if you’d like. No one ever needs to know what really happened.”

Aidan looked surprised, how did she know what was going on in his head? But he was probably not the first guy who survived a suicide attempt on this ward. Therefore he was thankful for the advice. Not to think of what would happen if he was asked in an interview about the scars. Given, there would be any future interviews at all.

After the nurse was done, a doctor entered the room. She introduced herself as Dr. Morghan, stating she had been there the night he had been admitted. Again she told Aidan everything what had happened since he had been found, for he had forgotten the most of the explanations he had gotten the other day. She gave him a detailed report of the rescue mission and didn’t forget about the resuscitation. She also told him of the improvised pressure bandages Dean had made, which had probably saved his life. Aidan glanced again to his hands, noticing that there was something else he hadn’t seen before.

Both of his forearms showed dark hand-shaped bruises, partly hidden under the dresses. 

_What the hell?_

Dr. Morghan followed his gaze and added quickly, “Oh that! Your husband explained that to me, as I was wondering too. The other man, who had been with him that night, helped blocking the blood flow to your arms. He wrapped his hands around your forearms and pressed before the compressing dressings were applied. Thankfully you are so thin!” 

She laughed without noticing Aidan slightly cringing. Then she pointed to another bruise, which looked a bit like a rope, just above the hand-shaped ones. 

“That was your bathrobe belt. Those two guys, they really saved you out there. I can’t recall the name of that friend of yours though.”

“Graham,” Aidan whispered mournfully, still staring at the bruises, his voice barely audible. 

The doctor continued her explanations, causing Aidan to listen again carefully. Now she explained the surgery, that he probably would have trouble with his sensation as long as the swelling was there. Then she told him about the entire procedure of hypothermia and didn’t miss to hint, that both Dean and Liam had barely left his bedside. 

Further she gave him instructions, for he had still a symptomatic anaemia, as the syncope during morning routine had shown them. He wasn’t allowed to leave his bed alone, had to take an iron compound for some time and needed to sit on the edge of the bed at least for two minutes before getting up, to help with the circulation. He was allowed to use the bathroom in his room, as long as he was accompanied, in case he fainted again. And it was necessary to take it easy. She told him that at least five times before she left.

Five minutes later Aidan’s bed was rolled along the hospital floors to another ward, the vascular surgery department, as it turned out. He was grateful for being brought into a single room and being left alone again. He was already exhausted, only from listening and brushing his teeth. 

_Ridiculous._

He looked out of the window watching the world turning grey and wet when it started to drizzle outside. Again his gaze wandered to his forearms, the bandages and the conspicuous bruises.

Aidan suddenly realised that Graham and Dean really had saved his life and that he had been unbelievable lucky. If everything had gone according to plan, he would be dead as a dodo now. It was only now that Aidan grasped considering himself lucky was tantamount to not being suicidal anymore. He didn’t even know if he was relieved with that realisation or if it worried him. 

What had changed? Obviously he had his family back, but were they really wiling to stay? Probably they were, they promised at least. And to be honest, Aidan now felt quite stupid for believing, they wouldn’t have him only because he failed in his job. They were his family after all and had been there for him all his life, so why not now? 

_Maybe because you proved what a pathetic and hopeless slouch you are?_

He shook his head. They had promised. They wouldn’t leave him alone, at least not his mother. Liam and his dad probably won't too, he tried to encourage himself.

But Dean? He couldn’t see why the Kiwi should stick with him. After everything he had done? After confessing his love for him, although he knew his feelings weren't returned? After attempting suicide? No, he surely had scared the Kiwi away with his last moves. Ok, he had promised to stay with him. But wouldn’t one promise anything to a guy who just had tried to kill himself? 

He wouldn't be able to live without him, but it was absolutely impossible to rebuild their friendship, let alone anything more. Not on such a base. Not that Aidan ever had had any hope for being in a relationship with Dean. But now, after being held in his arms so gently, he realised how much he really needed him. But no matter how much it hurt to lose him, he had to try to carry on. If not for himself, then at least for his family.

Aidan watched the drizzle turning into a downpour while ruminating about how to deal with Dean. He didn’t even notice that he was in full pondering mode again, manoeuvring himself into a similar state like he had been in a few days ago. Even if he came back, even if the Kiwi tried to befriend with him again, there was no way he could do this to him. Dean only deserved best, ruining his life by sticking with a pathetic, selfish, ungrateful loser like him was out of the question. 

The Kiwi would be way too polite and selfless to tell him in all honesty, that he wasn’t going to have Aidan in his life anymore. 

His duty, as the person who loved Dean the most, even unrequitedly, was to protect him from further harm. And the more time he spent with him, the more harm would be done. His gentle soul would be damaged, dragged down into Aidan’s dark world. What could he offer to the Kiwi? He was an emotionless and empty shell, a merely shadow of his former self, wrecked and broken. He couldn’t feel anything but sorrow and pain, how could he give happiness and love? What was there for Dean other than watching him puking his guts out, wasting his time in bed, being unable to work and getting lost in self-pity? 

No, he had to spare Dean the inevitable downfall he would cause, should the Kiwi decide to stick around. Feeling his heart shatter into pieces all over again at the mere thought, Aidan decided to let the Kiwi go. And if Dean refused out of utter politeness … well, then he had to make him leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, don't hit me! But honestly, has anyone thought Aidan's path of recovery would be easy?


	24. Chapter 24

Lunchtime came and went by and Aidan miraculously survived the meal that was served to him, another one of those suspicious sandwiches and a watery stew of some sort. At least they didn’t have the audacity to call it _Irish_. Aidan thought of his mother’s hearty stew and her homemade soda bread coming with it. Tears filled his eyes when he thought about the last time he had eaten it almost a year ago, but he managed to blink them away. 

The food suddenly lost the last bit of taste. He had barely managed to eat some spoonful anyway, given that his stomach had started to cramp some time ago. The pain was not as bad as usual, but came with the familiar nausea. Eating was no option anymore. 

It had started shortly after he had received a text from Dean, telling him he was about to come over later that afternoon after his parents had had the chance to visit their son. Liam would come with his wife in the evening, after picking her up from the airport. He wished he hadn’t opened the text at all, because now he was filled with dread over the upcoming conversation he had to have with the Kiwi. Fuck, who had even brought his phone? He couldn’t even remember where he had last seen it. 

He also had a shitload of messages in his voicemail, but he didn’t dare to open them. Some of them might be from his agent. Angela had literally breathed down his neck during the last weeks, urging him to sign the contract for the second season of Poldark. But until now he had been unable to bring himself to do what was expected from him. The thought alone of going back to Cornwall filled him with a raging panic. Hence he had pushed the issue to the back of his mind, leading to the both of them arguing terribly during their last phone call and her telling him she couldn’t work with him anymore when behaved like this. 

Plus, if it was true that the other cast-members had changed their opinion about him, some of the messages might be from them. But that was something, Aidan felt unequal to do, facing the cast, be it over the phone or in person. Dean had told him they were very remorseful and he might be right about that, but nonetheless he could still remember the pain he had felt during the last days before his suicide attempt. Right now he could barely work through the feelings he had for the Kiwi, may they be good or bad. How could he deal with the entire cast? No, he had indeed allowed Dean to keep them updated on his condition, but he was definitely not ready to face them himself. 

The more Aidan thought about Dean, the more he got his head around how hopeless his situation was. Not only was he about to push the man he loved away all over again, no, he was also going to destroy the tiny plant of a fragile friendship they might have been able to rebuild. Love confessions and suicide attempts just didn’t go well with trying to fix your relationships. He had to tell the Kiwi that it was best for them to let each other go. 

Aidan felt fresh tears running down his cheeks and snivelled miserably. How was he supposed to shut the Kiwi out after allowing his closeness the day before? Desperation settled in his heart and he realised eventually that nothing had changed at all. Everything was the same as before his suicide attempt. There was no chance for forgiveness, let alone happiness. He was irretrievably doomed. 

When the pain in belly and heart got too much, he curled into a ball and cried heartbrokenly, feeling once more that this predicament was irreversibly fucked up.

~~~

That was how his mother found him when she entered the room after a soft knock. It broke her heart, seeing her youngest son in such a state of utter pain. The imagination that he had lived through similar struggles during the last months, unnoticed by her, made it even worse and she felt herself tearing up. 

Aidan, feeling the dip of the bed when she sat down beside him, glanced at her sideways with red rimmed and puffy eyes, tears collecting on the tip of his nose. She tried to stroke his hair back, as it had fallen into his face, but he cringed and only tried to get away from the touch, burying his face in the pillow.

“Honey, don’t do this. You can’t deal with all of that on your own, at least not all alone. But we aren’t able to help you if you don’t allow us to take part.”

Her voice was calm and comforting and a wave of soothing warmth ran through Aidan’s chest. This woman was unbelievable! Even after everything he did to her and the family, she was willing to help him fight his demons and welcomed him back in her arms.

To distract himself and his mother Aidan sat up and asked about another thing which had caught his eye and troubled him beyond measure.

“Da didn’t want to come, did he?”

His father was probably too disappointed in his wrecked son to come around and pay him a visit. What if he never wanted to see him again? If he repudiated him? What if….?

“Your dad is in the cafeteria to fetch us some coffee and a snack.” 

She hadn’t failed to notice the hurt in Aidan’s eyes when he realised his Da’s absence and it pained her how easily he got unsettled.

“We can’t have you live from hospital food alone. It will only cause more weight loss and you are already thin enough. I can’t imagine how much you must have suffered to lose so much weight.”

She paused and took him into her arms, drawing soothing patterns onto his back. 

“I don’t know why you always assume your father will turn you down or don’t love you anymore if you don’t live up to his expectations. Let me assure you, that’s never been the case. He loves you with all his heart. Always has, always will. Just like me and your brother. We will never let you down again. Come what may…”

“…It’s bad enough that we already did during the last months.”

Aidan was startled by the deep voice coming from the door. Carrying a tray with three steaming mugs and some slices of banana bread on it, his father stood by the door, his facial expression torn with pain. He walked into the room, placed the tray on the small table and sat down on the bed next to Aidan. He put his hand on Aidan’s shoulder to comfort him, as he sensed his son’s distress. He almost cringed in pain when his boy started to sob all over again. 

“You didn’t! All of you tried really hard to get a grip on me, but all I’ve done was shoving you away, shouting at you and being an ungrateful brat. I am so, so sorry about all of this.”

Pat Turner held his son tightly while he wept, whispering ‘I am sorry, I am sorry’ over and over again. 

“Ssshhh…it’s alright”, his father whispered back.

“No, it’s not! Look what I’ve done to all of you. How could that be alright?”

“It’s not helpful to drown yourself in self-accusations. _Yes_ , you hurt us by shutting us out. _Yes_ , there were times when you behaved like a huge dick…” He was interrupted by his wife’s hissed “Language, Pat!”

“…What I wanted to say is, _yes_ , there was a time when we couldn’t deal with you, couldn’t understand you and, _yes_ , we were even mad at you. There’s no use in denying it. But _we_ , on the other hand, made a huge mistake when we thought giving you time and space would help things straighten out. We thought you were only busy with Poldark and leaving you alone for a while would calm the waves. Instead, it got you down even more and all we did was to sit in Clondalkin and wait.  
Yes, you made mistakes, but we did also. Huge mistakes! Instead we should have come for you. That’s unforgivable. It had almost cost you your life! So _please_ , stop your self-blaming, it wasn’t all you. We all are to blame for that. Can you see a way to accept that?”

Aidan had stopped crying but was still sniffling miserably, but then he gave a tiny nod. 

“Liam and Dean brought us up to date last night. They told us everything what happened, as far as they knew. We understand you now, although I wish it had never come so far. I wish we had come to find out what’s wrong. Can you ever forgive us?”

Aidan blinked in confusion. He should be the one forgiving?

“There’s nothing to forgive”, he whispered, voice cracking.

“I know it’s very important to you and you probably need that,” his mother took over the talking, “but although you didn’t do _anything_ what requires _our_ forgiveness, I want to assure you that you have it. Unconditionally. Please stop blaming yourself.”

Aidan looked so unbelieving and with that even more vulnerable than ever.

“Really?” he sniffed, remembering them of a child version of him, being caught by a prank and scolded.

“Of course,” both his parents said simultaneously. His mom hugged him tightly, stroking over his hair again. Aidan leaned against her, feeling warm and, for the first time in months, safe.

After some more minutes of comforting Pat suggested to have coffee to soothe their nerves. Aidan eyed the banana bread suspiciously, not knowing if he might be able to keep it down.

“Troubling stomach aches?”

His eyes widened at the question, his mother had asked. How could she know?

Sensing the question in his eyes, she answered, “I raised you, don’t forget that! I know you got them when having problems. I guess that’s why you lost so much weight? Not being able to eat properly?”

Aidan dropped his gaze in shame, worrying his bottom lip, and nodded.

“I had a feeling that camomile tea would fit your stomach better than coffee, so I brought you some,” his father added, giving Aidan the one mug filled with tea instead of the black caffeine drink. 

Aidan took it thankfully, overwhelmed with his parents’ thoughtfulness. Inhaling the calming scent, he looked into the eyes of his mother, who had cupped his cheek and stroked it with her thumb.

“My boy,” she said tenderly. “All those months … I can’t imagine how you must have felt. So alone and abandoned. But that’s over now. I know you won’t feel better immediately, probably not even in a matter of weeks. It’ll take a lot of time, I think, and you’ll probably need a therapist. But let’s just start to try, ok? We begin with eating. I think you should have a slice. Take little bites and chew them carefully. One by one.” 

And to his own surprise he did. In the end, he finished his slice and even had a few bites of a second one within the next hour. It had something calming, having tea and munching with his parents. It felt familiar, almost … normal. Yeah, that must be it, feeling normal was a thing he had yearned for a lot during the last months.

Aidan’s parents felt the change in their son, who was making himself comfortable in the bed and seemed to feel more content now, as they watched him with fond eyes. For the first time in what seemed like eternity, he felt loved and started to relax.

“Aidan? I hate to spoil the mood, but when I entered the room you were already crying. I think we should know what’s going on in your mind. It would really help us to understand you and help you fighting your demons.”

His mind was running fast, when he pondered to either tell them what bothered him or to find a good excuse. No, he decided. He had lied enough. That’s what had brought him here in the first place. It was about time to stop playing a role and be himself again, at least in front of his family. Otherwise they would never be able to overcome the past. He inhaled deeply and let the air out in a sigh, knowing they would probably freak out over what he was about to say. 

“I think I shouldn’t reconnect with Dean after everything what happened.”


	25. Chapter 25

Both of his parents opened their mouths to protest, but were silenced by her son, who suddenly found the courage to speak openly and, in the process, stubbornly refused to stop in fright of losing the little confidence he just had developed. 

“I mean … how could we be friends after the show I put on? He can’t really want this. I let him down and then I pressured him into guilt feelings by attempting suicide. How could he ever trust me again? I’m sure he’s still mad at me, but doesn’t tell me because he’s too polite … and feels too guilty. He’s probably concerned I might try it again and he doesn’t want it to be his fault. I treated him so badly. He can’t be willing to rebuild that friendship. I don’t deserve that anyway…” 

His voice broke as his eyes filled with tears again, lower lip quivering dangerously.

“…Honestly, I really don’t deserve that. I am scum, not worth the time. I am a fucking crybaby, spending all day in bed. I’m unable to work and constantly frightened. How could someone like him want to spend time with such a person? I would only drag him down or, even worse, hold him back. It’s bad enough that you have to put up with me and I can totally understand if you never wanted to see me again. And Dean…”

“Stop! Aidan, just … stop.”

Eileen Turner had noticed quickly that her son’s mind ran in circles again, while her husband could only watch, mouth agape. He was confused. They had spent the previous night listening to Liam and Dean, who told them everything, _absolutely everything_ , what had happened. That also meant that Dean told them the truth about the complicated relationship he had had with Aidan, his realisation that he was in love with him, his own confusion and incapability to deal with that fact, turning finally into anger. He also showed the farewell letter, pointing to the part where Aidan confessed what he felt for him.

They had never known exactly what Dean and Aidan had had together, but they had always suspected there had been _something_ , knowing about their son’s bisexuality and the deep connection, both of them had shared. There must have been feelings, at least from Aidan’s side, they had presumed. Secretly they even had hoped for Aidan to find his true love in the Kiwi, as they had met him multiple times while their son had lived in New Zealand for shooting The Hobbit. They had come to adore his loving and caring attitude towards Aidan along with his impressible sense of humour and his vibrant soul, while he was modest and down-to-earth at the same time. More than once they had secretly discussed the issue, with their son not knowing, hoping for Aidan’s feelings to be returned. Eileen once even had called him ‘Aidan’s knight in shining armour’, of course not in front of their son. 

And yesterday had just shown him how much the Kiwi actually cared. He had told them his point of view under tears, begging for forgiveness, although the Turner family felt nothing but gratefulness for saving Aidan’s life. To hear now that their youngest was about to drop the blond again went beyond their imaginations and showed just how twisted Aidan’s mind really was. 

In the end it was Pat who whispered, “You can’t possibly be serious.”

The urge to tell his son, how deeply in love the Kiwi obviously was, got almost unbearable. But it wasn’t upon him to spread the news. That was a matter only the both of them could resolve.

Aidan sat there, stunned with teary eyes and a racing heart. Surely he had disappointed his parents again. They loved Dean, he knew that. His mother had dropped a comment about a thousand times how perfectly they fit together. 

He desperately tried to intercept a sob, but still couldn’t hide that he was crying again. They would all leave him alone in the end, because he was a hopeless idiot who couldn’t get a grip on his life.

“I have to do that, I’m sorry! For his own good.” He dropped his gaze and focused on his lap, trying to hide behind a curtain of dark curls.

“Aidan, Dean made it very clear yesterday, that he’s determined to not give up on you so easily. It’s not only that he feels responsible for what happened, he also realised how much you actually mean to him. As you are clearly not unattached to him, don’t you think you should give the both of you a chance? He was your best friend. Can you throw that away so easily?”

They couldn’t see much of Aidan, only the dark curled curtain and the tear drops falling onto his hands. It was heartbreaking, watching him doing so much harm to himself and the man he loved so much.

“I’m not the same person Dean once liked. I’m not the friend he once had. I’m not myself anymore, only…an empty shell … He cannot want that, neither as a friend nor anything else….”

He reached for the tissue, his mom offered, and blew his nose noisily, then wiped his eyes and blew his nose again. In the end it was all pointless, for he cried even harder at his own realisations. Without recognising the first signs, he had manoeuvred himself into another mental breakdown and his parents were only able to watch, offering more tissues and try to comfort him with gestures, as he seemed to be not accessible for any sort of soothing word right now. 

“…Especially not anything else. Didn’t he tell you? I wrote him a suicide note and, to make it even worse, I told him I was in love with him in said letter. How would that not make things even more awkward? … Honestly, how can you be friends with someone who’s in love with you but whose feelings you don’t return? How can you be friends with someone, who made said love confession right before he tried to kill himself and made you feel responsible for that? That’s an unacceptable base for any kind of relationship and he cannot want this!”

”Honey, don’t you think Dean has a say in that, too? I mean, you haven’t even talked to him about that issue. Maybe he has his own opinion? Right now, you only jump to conclusions and that’s exactly the same mistake we all made over the last months to fail you. It’ll bring no good. Ask him! I think Dean wants to make a decision by himself in that matter.”

There was a shuffling sound and they all turned in surprise when a certain voice with a lilting accent spoke behind them.

“I think I actually _want_ to make my own decisions… uhh ... about what by the way?” 

~~~

Dean felt weird when they all stared at him with their jaws dropped. They must have talked about him before he had entered. Were they hiding something from him? Wasn’t he welcome anymore? Did something else happen? Anyway, why the hell was Aidan crying again? Alone the sight of the distraught brunet, sitting in bed and hiding behind his dark curls, threatened to break his heart. He entered the room warily, feeling his heartbeat speeding up at the mere thought the Turners’ opinion about him might have changed. 

Aidan’s parents looked helplessly at each other. It was clear that the boys had to talk out the issue alone, but they couldn’t find it in their hearts to leave their sick and injured son alone, when he was in such a vulnerable state.

Pat felt bad for Dean, too. How must the Kiwi feel, knowing they had talked about him and didn’t want to say why? He cleared his throat and started to speak. 

“Obviously you two should talk, but I don’t feel now would be the best moment.”

He motioned in Aidan’s direction and shot the Kiwi an apologetic and helpless glance. The blond understood and pulled the nearest chair close to sit down, instead of sitting on the edge of the bed, as he had done the day before. He hoped Aidan would approve that gesture of giving him enough space. 

“Hey Aid. You know you can talk to me about everything. I’ll understand, I promise! Please, don’t be afraid!” His voice was calm and soft, but inside he felt as if he was about to boil over with dread. There was only one thing Aidan might want to tell him and that was to fuck off. To disappear from his life and never come back. 

How stupid had he been to think Aidan could possibly forgive him? He sat there and waited seemingly patiently for Aidan to calm down, while his heart pounded in his chest and the fear seemed to overwhelm him. Was that how Aidan had felt, when he had shown up at his hotel room? 

~~~

Aidan wished for nothing more than for the ground opening widely and swallowing him alive. Why did that happen? Not only that his parents got clearly upset with him. No, Dean had chosen this very moment to show up. Of course he knew he had to talk to him eventually. But not now, when he was crying like a baby and with his parents in the room. But not talking about it was no option either, since Dean had heard half of their conversation. 

Caught in this dilemma, overwhelmed with the pain to lose Dean again and the fear of his possible reaction, he did the only thing he knew to protect himself against the world, he started to withdraw again. He just lay back down on his propped up bed and turned the head to the window, trying hard to make the weeping stop. It didn’t work, but his parents finally asked if they better should leave, whereupon he nodded. 

He heard his father whispering something, probably into Dean’s ear, but didn’t understand the words. He didn’t watch when his parents left the room, feeling close to panic again. When Dean eventually whispered, “Should I leave, too?” he wondered why his voice sounded so broken and wary, yes almost frightened. Shouldn’t he be annoyed or mad? 

Aidan shook his head no, but didn’t say anything, as he still wept miserably. He didn’t dare to look the Kiwi in the eye. How pathetic he was, how wretched and despicable! Dean had to think he wanted to be pitied, or even worse, he tried to bind him with pity and guilt. 

Those musings didn’t help to calm him down at all. On the contrary, all of a sudden he could feel his throat constricting and his breath coming short. There was a fire burning in his entire body … black dots … ringing ears … tingling mouth…

_Not now!_


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Compared with my last updates this one is quite early. That's because I have absolutely no idea when I'll be capable of working on a screen again because I get my eyes lasered on Friday and healing might need a few weeks (and I'm shitting my pants by the way). I'm some chapters ahead with writing, but I never update without proof reading, so it's possible it'll take a while. Wish me luck!

When he woke up, Dean had changed position. He was still in a chair, but now on the right side of the bed, the side Aidan was facing. The Kiwi held his right hand in his own, stroking over the knuckles. He also noticed terrified that Dean was snivelling quietly. As the blond was looking down, he hadn’t noticed that Aidan had woken up. 

He felt drowsy and slightly dizzy, had he had another faint? But he hadn’t even tried to get up. While he watched Dean stroking his hand, he tried to remember anything from before, but could only remember the fear. He had cried and started to hyperventilate … shit, there had been the signs of an upcoming panic attack. According to the paralysing exhaustion he felt it must have been exactly that. A panic attack. The whole nine yards. Completely with passing out. In front of Dean. 

Aidan couldn’t suppress the groan, when embarrassment and consternation hit him. Dean had witnessed the breakdown. He had seen him in a state of sheer weakness and failure. Surely now he must be ultimately fed up with his wimpy demeanour. 

Dean, of course, heard the sound and looked up, right into wide brown eyes, so full of grief. It was heartbreaking. And why would Aidan be so sad? Shouldn’t he be angry at him? He wiped his cheeks frantically before he began to speak. 

“Aid, thank God! You had a panic attack and couldn’t breathe. I called the nurse and she gave you a sedative. You passed out after that.” He didn’t let go of Aidan’s hand while he spoke.

“How long?” The Irishman’s voice was barely audible. 

“Not long, maybe 20 minutes, 30 tops. How are you feeling?”

_I wish I’d die right away._

“Tired … and a bit dizzy.” He also felt calmer and kind of sorted. Things had settled down a bit in his head, probably due to the sedative. At least he felt able to speak with Dean now. After a longer pause he added, “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“What? Why? Oh no, please don’t feel bad because of that. It wasn’t your fault. And it’s nothing to be ashamed of. On the contrary, after all you’ve been through, it’s a miracle you haven’t had them on a regular base.”

When he saw Aidan squeezing his lips into a thin white line, realisation hit him.

“You had, hadn’t you?”

The brunet closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose, for his lips were still pressed together, then he gave a short nod.

“Oh Aid! And I didn’t see that. I failed you all along the line.” His eyes filled with fresh tears, when he prepared to be send away any second. 

But the Irishman didn’t say anything, he only watched him with huge sad eyes, as if he was about to say Good Bye. 

“If … if you want me to go … I mean …I can understand that.” He wiped his cheeks again, when the first tear started to run.

_I won’t survive him dismissing me._

Aidan, lips still pressed together, was looking as if someone close to him had just died. He inhaled again audibly through his nose, then slowly nodded and suddenly dropped his gaze.

_It’s for the best._

Dean’s heart was on his tongue, it felt as if someone had pressed all the air out of his lungs. His vision blurred through the veil of tears as he slowly let go of Aidan’s hand, realising only now that he had held it the entire time. 

He felt, as if the world had frozen up, leaving him naked and cold in the dark, with a knife stuck in his chest. His love had sent him away, before he could have even told him how he felt.

“Do you mean … for now?” Aidan shook his head. 

“For good?” His voice was a cracking whisper by now. A small nod, that’s it. His life was over. In the end, all his fighting and regret had led to nothing. Aidan wasn’t willing to forgive him. 

Slowly, as if he was moving through deep water, he started to get up, but couldn’t find the strength in his legs to carry him. The world seemed distant and unreal, sounds muffled and colours too bright all of a sudden.

“Okay, I…I’m leaving now.” 

When the Kiwi’s voice cracked, Aidan looked up again, horrified by Dean’s tear-stricken face. The utter pain he could see in the beloved features shook him deeply to the core. Never had he expected Dean to be hurting so much. Did that mean he really meant something to him? And now he had shoved him away, _again_. 

When the blond started to sob, he felt a deep ache in his chest, which threatened to suffocate him. How could he do this to him? He didn’t want him to leave, but thought it would be best for him. Actually, he had assumed that had been exactly what the Kiwi secretly had wanted. Being freed from the millstone around his neck Aidan was. 

When Dean started to choke on his words, Aidan could barely understand him, while the sobs wrecked the blond’s body.

“I only want to tell you how … how sorry I am. The things I ... I did to you, they’re unforgivable … And I’m sorry you had to … to go through all of this because of me. I can totally … understand that you can’t for … forgive me. I am so, so sorry! Please, just … just promise me to get better … to recover and live a happy life again, okay?”

Dean’s stomach churned and he was queasy. His legs were shaky and he felt like fainting every moment. Balling his hands into fists, he dug his nails deep into the flesh of his palms, so the pain would cause him to stay conscious. When he was sure he wouldn’t pass out, he made his way towards the door, only a few steps away. But then he suddenly stopped midways, feeling the need to ask one last question. He was lost for words for a few seconds, not wanting to sound accusing. 

“Aidan? Can I … I ask one more thing before I … I leave? … Why didn’t you … didn’t you tell me yesterday?” He had to pause when he choked on a loud sob. “Why did you make … make me think I had a chance? That you might … be able to forgive me with time and we … we could start anew?” 

The Irishman was deathly pale, he felt so immensely guilty, as if he was buried under a heap of stones, heart crushed and bones shattered. He was neither able to move nor to speak. All he could do was watching Dean as he crumbled, hating himself for it. 

The Irishman drew in deep breaths and, after a while, managed to whisper, “It’s not that.” The grief seemed to overwhelm him, shoving him into a deep black hole with no way out. 

Dean blinked in disbelief. 

_What else if not that?_

He gathered all his courage, suppressed the next sob and made a few careful steps back towards the bed. His voice was hoarse when he asked, “What do you mean by that?” 

Aidan dared to look him in the eye and Dean noticed the brunet had also teared up. He didn’t understand a thing. What was going on here? Why would Aidan cry if he was mad at him?

The Irishman’s heart was racing, he had to tell him. It would only be fair. He swallowed around the lump in his throat and opened his mouth to speak up, but what came out was only a small whisper.

“I’m not good for you.”

“You what? How can … you say that?” 

“I spoiled our friendship … in every possible way. At first I neglected you … then I snubbed … and to top it all off, I told you I … I loved you while I was trying to … to kill myself!”

His eyes went wide in horror when he realised what he had just said. He had hoped they could avoid this topic completely and yet he had blurted it out.

Dean’s heart broke ultimately when Aidan, with the last energy he had left, breathed, “There is no way you will ever want to be my friend again.” 

Was it that? Aidan assuming he wouldn’t want him and pushing him away as a precaution exceeded all his imaginations of his friend’s mindset.

That was when Aidan broke down again, sobbing and choking, tears running down his already wet face. The fight to contain all his fears and the sorrow inside was ultimately lost. He sat in bed, launched over, and buried his face in his hands. Dean was standing in the room, dumbstruck, while every single one of Aidan’s wails pierced his heart, again and again. 

The Kiwi threw all caution over board and approached the bed, placing himself on the edge beside the distraught Irishman and took him into his arms. It didn’t matter that he was in the middle of a meltdown himself. All what mattered was helping Aidan. And since the brunet obviously wasn’t that stern in sending him away, leaving him alone, although required, was not an option anymore. 

He countered Aidan’s weak attempts in fighting him off by hugging him tightly, hushing him when he sobbed, “No, please. Don’t.”

In any other situation he would have respected Aidan’s wish. But now, for Dean had realised he was falling into his old patterns again, he just had to break the vicious circle. He knew it was risky, overstepping Aidan’s boundaries in such a way, but he wouldn’t allow him to pull up his walls again if it was only out of fear and not free will. 

But Aidan had already given up to struggle in his arms and now leant into the embrace, sobbing and trembling, but Dean still called it a little success.

They sat there for a while, both crying and wetting their shirts. Dean drew soothing patterns on Aidan’s back, hoping the comforting gesture made Aidan understand he actually cared for him.

_You’ll win him back now or never!_


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD... 200 kudos!!! Guys, thank you so much, I'm absolutely overwhelmed with the responses that story still gets.
> 
> And did you see? I once again added some tags. That's not a warning but an announcement, for some of you might be waiting for it. ;-)
> 
> The laser surgury went well. The pain was bearable and until now the doctor is satisfied with the healing process. My sight is still blurry, but that's only a matter of time. Thank you all so much for the good thoughts and well wishes! <3 <3 <3

It took them about 15 minutes, several paper tissues and a lot of nose-blowing until they were able to calm down enough to continue the conversation. Although Aidan still wanted to avoid it, he knew there was no way as Dean obviously had figured out his tactics. His heart was on his tongue, when he waited anxiously for Dean to start talking. It didn’t take the Kiwi too long. 

“Do you really think we can’t be friends anymore?” 

He got a shy nod as an answer, while Aidan’s gaze was drawn to his lap. Looking Dean in the eye was impossible right now. 

“And why is that, if it’s not about what I’ve done?”

Aidan snivelled and wiped his nose again with a tissue. God, if it wasn’t for his behaviour that Dean would eventually be fed up, it would be for all the snot he produced these days. He needed a few moments to recollect himself before he spoke, voice thick with tears.

“I told you already. It’s just too much, all what happened and what I said … or wrote. How could you ever put up with that?”

“I don’t understand. As for what you said in your … letter, I have to tell you …”

But Dean didn’t come any further since Aidan’s dam finally broke entirely. All the things he had tried to contain so hardly, the doubts, the embarrassment, the fear of losing Dean, of ruining him or dragging him down, just boiled over. The Kiwi could only stare, astonished and with his mouth open, when the Irishman threw everything at him, what his brain had come up with since this morning. The whole time Dean held him in his arms, listening carefully and trying to comprehend. After Aidan was done, he rocked his crying friend gently, running a hand through his hair and murmuring soothing words to him. 

The Kiwi was shell-shocked to see, once more, how twisted his friend’s mind was and how low he thought about himself. Of course he had thought Dean didn’t really want to stick with him and had tried to shove him away as a result. He had to stop this. There was no way he could allow Aidan to continue to disparage himself. 

“Aid, why do you think that love confession does make things awkward, that it spoils our friendship? Actually, I…”

Now it was on Aidan to look at Dean in disbelief.

“You can’t possibly say you can forget what I said. We can’t just go back to normal after this. It will always stand between us.” 

“I hope it will.”

“What?”

“Aid, what I try to tell you the whole time is that you are not the only one, who fell in love with his best friend.”

Aidan’s facial expression turned from tortured to disbelieving and confused in no time, but suddenly it changed again. His eyes went sad and his features got hard. He looked like a grieving man, who had lost everything he ever had had in one second. 

“Please stop! Don’t … I can’t … Please just say, you hate me and leave if you want to, but don’t mock me. I can’t bear that, not from you of all people.”

If Aidan just had hit him, the effect on Dean would have been the same. He was lost for words and could only stare at him bewilderedly. 

“You … you think, I’m mocking you? Honestly, Aidan! Why would I? This is not a thing to make fun about. It has bothered me for months, now. I didn’t choose it, but yet it happened. I thought you moved on from me and left me behind in my misery. That’s why I was so mad at you, when you broke contact, you know? I realised I loved you and you were gone and that pushed me over the edge…”

“I’m really sorry about that. What … what about your girlfriend?”

The Kiwi sighed, remembering the day when she had confronted him about the feelings he seemed to have for his best friend. 

“She sensed I wasn’t into our relationship too much and put one and one together. We parted as friends and she has a new boyfriend for a few months now. 

“That’s sad, I liked her. She was nice.”

Aidan’s face hadn’t lost the impression of deep mournfulness when he spoke. Dean waited for more to come, but he remained silent after that. Yet, the fact he was still in his arms and hadn’t fought his way out of the embrace was not lost on him.

“I wish you’d believe me. I don’t lie to you, let alone mock you. Always, since we know each other, you meant the world to me. As my colleague and my friend … my _best_ friend with or without benefits and as my dwarf brother. I hated to see you leave after The Hobbit, but that’s how things went and I really didn’t realise there was more to it until you were suddenly gone from my life. I think I’ve always loved you, I just didn’t get it. And I’m so sorry for that, but I can’t turn back the clock.” 

Aidan, while turning his gaze back down, swallowed hardly to get rid of the lump in his throat. All of this was too much, too confusing. He felt torn between his desire for his former best friend and his responsibility for that very person. But Dean’s words hadn’t missed their target, as he started to believe him. There was no reason for the Kiwi to tell him those things without meaning it. But yet, he couldn’t fight to be seized with a deep sadness, when reality hit him hard. 

“But … I’m not the same person anymore. If what you say is true, then you fell in love with another man. Another me. I am not this guy anymore.”

There were tears again, unshed, but still lingering in the corners of his eyes. There was nothing left of the man he once had been. Now he was only an empty shell, there was no joy left in him, no laughter. He was only a shadow with no emotions except fear and sorrow. He couldn’t help it, when the tears started to run down his cheeks again. 

_Again! For the umpteenth time that day._

“Ssshhh, everything will be alright.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“It will. I promise. I know you’ve changed. But who would not, after experiencing what you had to? I know at the moment everything looks like utter shit to you. And I know I did nothing to deserve your trust anymore, but let me assure you, I will try everything to sort all of that shit out, if you’ll have me. You won’t feel like this forever. You will gain your self-esteem back, your happiness and your vibrant self. I only hope it’s with me, that you don’t throw me overboard at some point.”

Now it was on him to swallow hard. He had no idea how to reassure Aidan. One year ago, he would have done that single-handed. But now, after all what happened, he felt as if he was walking on eggshells and failed miserably. 

“It’s not me, who will get rid of you. It’s you. It will take you a few weeks, maybe only days, to realise that you can’t bear with me any longer. Dean, I didn’t manage to go to work, to do sports or even play the guitar. Everything I’d enjoyed I couldn’t do anymore. I was lying in my bed for hours, doing nothing than pitying myself. You can’t really want that.”

“As I said, I don’t think that’s a permanent state. You … well, I think you should see a therapist. Only until you can leave all that shit behind you and start to love yourself again. There are people who love you. Your family and me. Others too, but you might not want to count them in yet. With help and support you’ll find the way back to yourself, I know that. And you won’t be alone, never again. I’m always by your side, if you want me to that is.”

“I … I don’t know. I mean … I know that I’m in love with you, but, at the moment, I can’t really feel it….”

The look of sheer pain in his favourite pair of blue eyes let him feel the ache in his chest again.

“Not because of what happened. It’s just … I can’t show any kind of affection or adoration. I know it’s there, but I can’t feel it. I don’t know why. It’s as if all the positive emotions were removed from me. I only feel either numb or anxious or even both at the same time. I would not be able to show you, how much you mean to me and that will drive us apart.”

“Of course you can’t feel anything good at the moment, Aid. You’ve been terrible wronged. During the last months you got only rejection, loneliness and indifference, and I was a big part of that. It’s impossible for you to feel positive emotions for anyone, who abandoned you. Your body kind of forgot how to do that, I imagine. But I’m sure you’re able to learn that again, to trust and love people, especially yourself. And I want to help you with that. I don’t expect anything from you in reverse.”

“You’ll be bored with time, feeling repulsed by me. You’ll hate me!”

“No, I won’t! Aidan, ever since you disappeared, you were in my mind, night and day. I was disappointed and angry, but I never hated you. And I never will.”

“What good lies in a relationship, when there is no affection? No ... physical contact? I can’t give you what you deserve to have. I have no idea how to touch you, or kiss you, let alone … anything else. That can’t be what you want.”

“Aidan, if you allow me, I’d like to make that decision by myself. And as I said before, I don’t expect anything from you. If you can’t bear to be touched or kissed, then it’s fine by me, and I will never demand anything of that from you. All I ask is permission to be with you. Please don’t send me away.”

The last words where desperate, voice thick with upcoming tears and cracking.

Aidan looked into Dean’s eyes and didn’t see the expected signs for disgust or repulsion. He yearned for nothing more than to stay in his arms like this, to be loved and adored, as it once had been.

“I … I didn’t … I can’t … there would be no … I mean … sex … Fuck, Dean, I don’t even know when I touched myself the last time. My libido died with everything else.”

Although the Kiwi’s insides twisted at the word ‘die’, he didn’t allow himself to show any of that. 

“I don’t expect anything like that. Although I’m sure it will increase once you feel better and more yourself, I would never stipulate that from you. I only want to be with you, without any conditions. That means, if you’ll have me. Will you?”

It took Aidan some time to answer, the storm in his mind roared loudly and didn’t let him think straight. It was possible he precipitated himself into ruin. But on the other hand, he had already lost everything. What else could he lose, if he tried?

And so it happened, that Aidan, although being torn between fear, guilt and love, slowly nodded, allowing Dean to break through his last defensive wall. When the Kiwi tightened his arms around him he leaned into the touch, longing for the physical contact despite feeling unable to return it. 

“Is it alright when I hold you like this?” Dean asked in a small voice, feeling as if tons of stones were lifted from his heart. 

Again, there was a nod, but this time it was sincere and even accompanied by a small smile. Dean couldn’t help it, for his relief was too big, and kissed Aidan on the tip of his nose. That actually earned him a chuckle, small and shy, but a chuckle anyway. The Kiwi felt as if he had just gotten the role as Fili a second time in his life. Until now, winning Aidan back and making him smile had seemed like an impossible task. But now, since he had managed that, even made him snicker, he was determined to do that again. And again. And again.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooops, it's been a while, sorry.  
> I have to admit that I got a little distraced with writing FiKi stuff... o_O  
> Also, work has been crazy as fuck and it won't be any different during the next months I'm afraid. I wonder if I should have chosen ophthalmology or something like that as a subject. It probably would be so much calmer when being on duty....*sighs*... and way too boring, I guess.
> 
> That was just a stupid example, I really don't know the avarage work amount an ophthalmologist on duty has and I'm sure their work is extremely exciting ;-) No offense here...  
> I'm babbling, sorry. I should restrict my daily caffeine dose.

When Aidan’s dinner was brought, the Irishman was fast asleep. He had been so overwrought after the strenuous talk with Dean that he had dropped off short after. The Kiwi had sent Aidan’s parents a quick text, releasing them from their waiting position in the cafeteria, where they had stayed in case Aidan needed them after his conversation with Dean. Then he had actually had a little nap too, head resting on the familiar edge of the bed, right next to Aidan’s. But when the nurse entered with the food, he had been already awake for some time, pondering the next steps which had to be made to set things right again.

He gently woke Aidan up by stroking softly over his hair, for he knew the brunet loved gestures like that. He also thought it would prevent him from startling awake in this vulnerable and anxious state.

He helped the Irishman to prepare his dinner, but Aidan managed the main part for himself. The only problem was that he was barely able to get anything down. His stomach was calm for once and he didn’t feel nauseous, but he simply had no appetite. He managed one slice of bread with cheese, but only because of Dean’s pleading looks. When Aidan decided for the apple instead of the second slice of bread, Dean cut it for him, as his hands were still numb and painful when he used them too much. 

Without noticing it, the both of them had fallen in a silent synergism, swinging in tune and picking up old habits of one stepping in where the other couldn’t. Of course they were far from joking around or finishing each other’s sentences while telling Hobbit stories, like it had been before. But at the moment there were at least no negative emotions standing between them. Right now there was no anger left. They were too worn out to find the energy to produce any fierce emotion at all. They moved in silence and endearment, exchanging shy little smiles, a palpable relief filling their chests with warmth. 

Both of them knew there was a lot more to talk about, but agreed that there was nothing good in overdoing things while they rather needed time to breathe. Dean knew there was the possibility that Aidan changed his mind or developed anger towards him during recovery while processing the iniquity he had experienced. But that time was not now and he promised to himself, no matter how hard it would be, he would endure it and stand beside Aidan. That was the very least he could do for him. 

All the other things like the upcoming psychiatric consultation, therapy in general, the urgent call Aidan had to give his agent to not endanger their cooperation, the unspoken issue with the Poldark series, all that remained unsaid. For now. They had agreed to take everything by babysteps, and so be it. 

After a soft knock the door opened, showing a jaded looking Liam. He was out of breath and seemed a little nervous. He greeted Dean with a fierce hug and sat down on the bed, saying hello to his brother and asking him about his condition and his day. At least three times he wanted to know, if there was anything he could do for him to feel better, if he needed something from his house, if he should call anyone or if there was _anything_ else he could do to make things right again. Aidan, who had secretly hoped to be welcomed back in their home in Dublin, only shook his head and insisted he was ok. Which he indeed was, at the moment, here in Dean’s arms and with his family around.

Liam didn’t fail to notice that Dean and Aidan were holding hands, fingers intertwined, but let it uncommented. A small smile flashed over his face, though. After that his impression turned sheepish. 

“Aid? Kathy is outside … ehm … Sean and Colin are actually too, to be honest. There was no way to keep them in Dublin after they had learned what happened. But of course all of us will understand if you are not up to see anybody. I heard you had already an exhausting day and it’s late…”

But despite being wary and feeling sick and anxious all day long, Aidan felt the urge to see his two mates. They had never done anything bad to him, had only given him space when he had required it and so had failed to see his downfall. After Dean and his brother they were the closest friends he had and he knew them his entire life. Ignoring their numerous calls and texts through the last months had been hurtful and had always made him hating himself even more. 

The need to see Kathy was even stronger. They had always been close, for they had danced together since their childhood. It had been him who introduced her to his twin brother, only too happy to be the best man on their wedding years later. She had been even more insistent than his brother. She had called, texted and emailed. One day she even had shown up on his door step. But Aidan had already been so withdrawn and frightened that he had just pretended not to be at home, since he hadn’t had the courage and the heart to turn her down face to face. She would probably have seen right through him, dragging him home, wrapping him in blankets and making hot chocolate. Maybe it would have spared him a lot of trouble and pain if he had just opened the door that day. 

“Aidan?”

Liam’s hesitant voice shook him out of his thoughts. His brother was walking on eggshells only to not upset him and Aidan felt bad for it. The look of pain and guilt hadn’t disappeared from Liam’s face, he still looked tired and grief-stricken. Aidan wanted his carefree and joyful brother back so badly, wanted to tell him that it was ok, that he didn’t blame him and that everything would be alright again. But how could he tell him that, if he didn’t believe it himself? And so he remained silent and only nodded his ok to receive his visitors.

~~~

Although he had intended not to cry, for he had done that the whole day, the reunion was indeed very tearful. Kathy stormed in, ignoring Dean completely and didn’t let go of Aidan for a long while. Liam had to pull her gently away to give Sean and Colin a chance to reach his brother as well. Dean observed the scene silently, while sitting down on a chair beside the bed. He didn’t mind to be outcast for the moment, as he knew how close the lot of them usually used to be, having grown up together and all that. It was touching and he gave them the space they needed. There were whispered names and apologies, tears and hugs. As bad as the grief and guilt felt, it now bound them together in a way. All of them, Aidan included. That in turn made words unnecessary, only closeness and reassurement mattering now. 

After all apologies had been exchanged and the tension started to loosen up, there was another bear hug ceremony for Dean, who had waited patiently on his chair. He felt embarrassed when they thanked him for saving Aidan and being there for him, for he was the one who had brought him here in the first place. But knowing Aidan was uncomfortable with that topic, he only nodded shyly and didn’t dwell on it. 

They spent the next two hours chatting and catching up with each other. Aidan had enough of talking about his problems and asked a lot of questions instead, wanting to know how each of them had passed the last months. And they told him, only too happy to be of help, since distraction was what he needed right now. It was a joy for all of them to see the brunet more and more relaxed, obviously feeling comfortable in their circle.

~~~ 

Kathy, being a nurse herself, gave Aidan a critical look and asked if he had been out of bed at all since his awakening. He told her about what had happened in the morning and that he wasn’t allowed to leave bed alone.

“I’d love to have a shower, but I don’t think I can manage to stand on my feet for even a minute.”

“That can be helped,” she said and rushed out of the room, before Aidan could even blink. 

“You do know, lazing around in bed is now over, don’t you?” Colin asked with a twinkle on his eye. “You’ll see, tomorrow she is taking you out for a run!”

Colin had always been the jester among them and his comment had them breaking out in laughter. Even Aidan chuckled, eyes shiny with something which was not tears for a change, but relief and a little joy, Dean analysed. For the first time, since he had last seen him at god terms, via Skype almost ten month ago, he saw something like contentment in his friend’s posture. Or was he his boyfriend now? 

Two minutes later Kathy returned, bringing a wheelchair along with some waterproof bandages the ward nurses had given to her. She quickly wrapped Aidan’s wrists while he had to sit on the edge of his bed. After she was sure he wouldn’t collapse, she assisted him when he transferred into the wheelchair. When it came to help him in the bathroom there was a short moment of uncomfortable silence, especially Aidan felt embarrassed, for he suddenly felt like an invalid. Dean would have gladly helped, but didn’t want to impose himself on the Irishman. It only lasted for a few seconds, then Liam took it on himself to wheel his brother towards the bathroom. Aidan visibly relaxed when he realised there was actually a shower chair. Of course, there was. That was a hospital after all!

When his twin helped him out of the hospital gown, Aidan felt suddenly sheepish. It was not his nudeness, what made him nervous, but his shape. There were no muscles anymore, only his thin frame with the bony shoulders and knees. He really hoped Liam wouldn’t notice, for he would feel even worse, but of course he did. He gasped in shock, then knelt in front of his brother, eyes shiny. 

“I’ll make this alright again. I don’t know how exactly or how long it will take, but I will make it alright. You’ll be healthy and happy again. I promise.”

Aidan only smiled weakly and whispered, “Thank you.”

Then he caught a look on himself in the mirror and froze.

“Why am I looking as if a truck hit me?” he indicated at the large confluent and nearly black bruises, which scattered his chest.

“Dunno, I think it’s from CPR? When they were strong enough to break your ribs they could possibly cause those bruises, too. Guess, it could be worse, although it looks quite painful.”

Aidan shrugged and gave himself a last doubtful glance before he let Liam help him into the shower seat.

~~~ 

After Aidan had dried himself off, he looked around searching. Before he could have even opened his mouth Liam gave him a pyjama, which he recognised as one of his own. 

“We were in your house before we came here and packed some stuff for you. You know, pyjama, towels, your tablet, toilet things…”

Aidan’s eyes went wide at this. He had totally forgotten about the mess his own bathroom must be now. The image of Liam and Kathy searching through the cupboards, avoiding the puddles of blood, maybe even _cleaning_ , made him cringe. 

“You were in the bathroom?”

“Calm down, bro. It’s been settled for days. I called your housekeeping service and they got it fixed right the morning after it happened.”

Aidan relaxed visibly after hearing that, although he felt bad for the lady who had to clean up his mess. He also acknowledged with relief that Liam referred to his suicide attempt as ‘what happened’ and not as ‘what you did’ or ‘the stunt you pulled’. It made him feeling less guilty. 

“I also brought lots of chocolate for you. It’ll be good for your nerves. I even promise I won’t eat it up this time.”

That had Aidan smiling and he thanked his brother again for his help. Feeling himself getting emotional again, he wanted to ask what had bothered his mind the entire day. Not able to point it out directly, he started to beat around the bush.

“Do you really think, we can make that work? That everything could be alright again?”

“I will do anything in my power to _make_ it work. You are my brother and I made a terrible mistake, but that will never happen again. And I hope once you’re back home things will get better. Kathy’s already done with unpacking the boxes with your stuff and … “

Seeing the gobsmacked look in Aidan’s face let him froze. Had that been too much? Aidan in turn felt overwhelmed, for what felt like the hundredth time this day. He starred at his brother, having not expected to be welcomed back so easily.

“I mean, if you want to come back that is.”

For a few seconds Aidan didn’t answer, and when he did he could only whisper.

“I’d love too.”

~~~

Being freshly showered, warm and comfortable had its consequences, for Aidan felt deadbeat after he had been transferred back into his bed. Noticing the dropping eyelids everyone said their goodbyes, reassuring the Irishman to come back the next day. Liam promised to call the moving company Aidan had hired first thing next morning to cancel the deal.

The last one in the room was again Dean, holding the brunet in his arms and promising to come around tomorrow right after noon. 

The image of a pair of loving ocean blue eyes followed Aidan into sleep, giving him good dreams instead of nightmares for the first time in months.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been two months since the last update. I have no other excuse than the FiKi WinterFRE2017, which kept me occupied for a few weeks. Also, my beta is getting married and doesn't have the time to proofread my stuff at the moment. So this chapter is actually unbeta'd.

When the nurses entered his room the next morning Aidan was already awake for hours. It had been no problem to fall asleep with the image of Dean’s eyes in his mind the night before. But after a few hours of sleep he had woken up, the nagging feeling of dread in his mind again. He had tried so hard to convince himself that everything would be ok, but failed miserably. Although he knew it better, he again doubted everything and everyone around him, asking himself when the people he loved would leave him. He ruminated during the early morning hours, feeling disappointed for believing in his recovery on the one hand and ashamed for thinking ill of his friends and family on the other. His stomach ached and he was nauseous again, feeling the constant pull of pain in his chest. 

Later that morning he got help from a young student nurse who wheeled him into the bathroom and made sure, he was getting through the morning hygiene mostly on his own. The breakfast which followed remained completely untouched. It was sheer impossible to get anything down, for throwing it all up on his bed was no option for Aidan. 

When the doctors came by on their medical round they were interested in his healing progress, which meant the healing of his wrists and ribs, not his mental state. Psychological issues weren’t a surgeon’s field of interest, Aidan assumed.

The day went on and he felt more and more terrible, being left alone in his misery. He knew it was only 10a.m. and not visiting hours yet, but he felt lonely and forgotten nonetheless. He tried really hard to convince himself that people cared, especially his family and Dean, but it was so arduous to make himself believe it. 

The thought of the upcoming threats popping up in his mind didn’t help either. What good could possibly come with surviving when he had to return to Poldark in the end? He probably needed a new agent too, as the last conversation with Angela hadn’t gone well. She had dug deep and almost had found out about the things which had happened to him in Cornwall, so the only way to keep her away had been a faked tantrum and some yelling about how well he did and how he not needed anyone to doubt his work and well-being. Aidan knew she would have ripped the entire film company apart if she had known about his struggles. After his outburst on the phone she was quiet for at least a minute, while the tears had gathered in his eyes when he realised what he had done. 

_“You just threw away 11 years of hard work and one of the best working alliances the world has ever seen. I can’t work with you anymore if you continue to be like that.”_

That had been some weeks ago and they hadn’t spoken again after that. Surely she was about to check her chances to void their contract as soon as possible. No-one wanted to work with him … no-one wanted to be with him.

But while he was wallowing in his self-pity, not attaining anything, he could also give Angela a call. It was necessary, he knew that and although he feared her reaction and the consequences his call might have, he was determined to get it over with. He grabbed his phone, hesitantly hovering over the button which would bring the screen to life. It took him several minutes to find the courage to press it, only to find out he had a message. 

It was a voice mail from Dean, sent 11:17 p.m. last night over the messenger they usually used. He had been fast asleep at this time and hadn’t checked the phone afterwards, not expecting anyone to send him anything.

He opened the message and nearly lost it. The barely contained emotions threatened to boil over when he heard with immensely relief what his friend (or was he his boyfriend?) had to say. 

“I know it feels different for you right now, but there’s no need to doubt my friendship or love for you. I will be there for you, whatever the cost. Your brain might tell you different, but you are not alone. You are neither unwanted nor unloved. Your brain is lying, don’t believe in what it’s saying. Believe in your family and me, when you feel like everything falls apart again. We are there for you, even when we are not in the room. Never forget, you matter! Just listen to this message when the fear of being alone and left behind overcomes you. Or just call me. Anytime.” 

Aidan listened to it five times, pressing the phone to his ear and curling up in bed. He didn’t realise that tears were running down his cheeks. But unlike the other times they were caused by affection and adoration. His favourite voice, loving and calming, told him over and over again that everything was going to be ok. Why hadn’t he found this message before? It surely would have spared him the sleepless second half of the night or at least would have calmed him down. He was so moved by Dean’s idea to comfort him from afar that he completely forgot about calling Angela, listening another three times to the message.

He felt more relaxed and settled when the door opened half an hour later.

“Good Morning Mr. Turner. My name is Dr. Miller. I’m a psychiatric consultant and I came to see you.” 

~~~

Whenever Aidan had thought about the psychiatrist coming to see him he had planned to tell them nothing of importance. Losing it over an argument and overreacting was the story he had composed in his mind, hoping that was the best base to convince the doctor he was not suicidal anymore. Or mentally ill. Or crazy. All he wanted was to go home. There was absolutely no way he would go to a mental clinic. 

But when the nice lady with the blond bob entered and sat down, starting to talk about his nice room and how he liked the food, he couldn’t help but open up to her. It didn’t feel like a medical consultation at all, more like a chat with the nice lady living next door. Of course he noticed how she subtly asked more and more questions without being intrusive. Although he would have never believed it, he felt understood and safe with her. 

In the end they talked for almost two hours and Aidan told her everything, _absolutely everything_ , what had happened during the last months. He had never recounted all of it in one go, even his letters had been written with breaks in between. And of course he got overwhelmed with feelings, ending up crying again. Dr. Miller steered him through the conversation, giving enough comfort for him to continue, but being objective and analytic at the same time. 

The choking and hiccups finally subsided when he started to tell her about his new support system, his family and Dean. He couldn’t lie to her and was honest about him being not his husband. If he had thought she would be scandalised, he had been wrong. A flashing smile appeared on her face and she nodded with approval. 

“You must mean the world to him, if he was ready to take that risk without blinking. He may have given up on you in the past, but I’m sure he’s now running in circles to make that right again.”

At the end of the time, the doctor gave her résumé. 

“You don’t seem to be suicidal at the moment, but you are far from stable either. Considering all the information you gave me, your history and the symptoms you were and are showing, I can confirm that you suffer from a severe adjustment disorder with depressive symptoms and suicidality.”

She explained more to him when he looked confused by her declaration. It was not a major depression because it was caused by external circumstances and was potentially reversible with proper therapy. The main treatment would be mostly consulting and solving the initial triggering issue, which meant not to return to Poldark for a very long time, probably never. 

“Given your anxiety level, your inner tension and the sleeping disorder, I recommend a soporific and anxiolytic antidepressant called mirtazapine to support your healing process. One side effect could be gaining weight, which isn’t too bad for you at the moment. It’s not addictive and it’s meant to be a temporary treatment until you feel better.” 

Aidan didn’t like her recommendation to admit him directly into the psychiatric clinic when his surgical treatment was over. He told her so and she asked about his plans after coming home. She didn’t mind that he didn’t have any, but voiced serious concerns to release him into ambulatory psychiatric treatment.

“You are seriously ill and probably too unstable to go home. You are always endangered to decompensate at the tiniest bit of trouble. A harsh word, an argument or misunderstanding might tip you over the edge and you could get suicidal again. Stationary treatment would guarantee to stabilise you before you get discharged, but of course it would take its time.

Aidan could see where she was coming from, but was still absolutely against an inpatient treatment. He would be far from home and he hated hospitals anyway. He couldn’t imagine how these circumstances could do him any good. Furthermore there was always the risk of being recognised and if that happened in the psychiatry he could pack in. 

“I don’t want that. I only want to go home.” 

“Take your time and think about it. What about the medication, how do you think about that?”

“I don’t want that either. Not yet. I want to make it without pills.”

“Though I’d rather have you accepting any support, I can understand that. I’ll take my leave then?”

Aidan suddenly felt as if he had made a terrible mistake. Had he just shoved another nice person away? He looked down in his lap, feeling immediately guilty again. Of course Dr. Miller didn’t miss that.

“O dear, don’t feel bad. You are free to make your own decisions. I’m only here to make suggestions and show you the possibilities.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice was dangerously quivering at those words, feeling he somehow might have disappointed her.

“Don’t be. On the contrary, I’m happy you are still able to voice your own wishes and make decisions. That’s a good sign. Why don’t I see you again in two days? You can see how sleeping goes until then and how you feel about inpatient treatment and medication after thinking about those options. Maybe you even want to talk them over with your family? Or Dean? Is that settled?”

He swallowed thickly and nodded in relief, gifting her with a wavering smile.

“That’s settled then.”


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! The work level seems finally to decrease and I might finally be able to tend to my babies again.
> 
> I pondered this one back and forth, thinking about how to fit this stupid video message into the story again without causing too much damage on both sides... I'm still not sure about it.
> 
> Two lines, although being thoughts, are not written in italics, for Ao3 refused my formatting, just for your information.

When Richard pressed the ‘stop’ button before switching off the video program on his laptop, the silence in the room felt heavy. Almost like a palpable matter, ready to shatter at any moment.

He watched his colleagues being in different states of grief and disbelief, regret ruling over all of them, him included. 

This morning he had received an email from a co-producer, telling him about a ‘disturbing’ video message which had been found among the filming material of The Hobbit interviews. The file had been attached to the email. If Richard had known what it showed he maybe would have opened it alone. But since he expected something from Aidan, which would concern all of them, he had called the cast together and shown the video.

What had followed was a film which went over about 15 minutes and engulfed all of them in an endless spiral of self-recrimination and grief.

~~~ 

Aidan sat there in front of the camera, pale like death with dark circles under his eyes and hollow cheeks. His voice was quivering and he seemed to tremble with nervousness. Why hadn’t he noticed his broken appearance from the beginning? Had Aidan been in this state when he had met him in front of the hotel cafeteria on the first day?

But even worse than his condition were the words the Irishman spoke. He addressed the cast-members directly. Suicide or death was never literally mentioned, but ‘that he could not see another expedient’ out of a predicament he didn’t further explain. What Aidan said more than once was that he couldn’t leave with them thinking they didn’t mean a thing to him. That he did not think them worthy. At this point a single tear rolled down his cheek, dropping from the chin onto his shirt, alone and dying, just like Aidan. 

He continued his speech with unshed tears in his eyes, voice cracking, but stable. Now he was apologising for his behaviour, for the neglecting. The brunet explained he had come to the event for trying to make things right and had failed horribly. Then he stated he missed them all terribly. An ice-cold shiver ran down Richard’s spine when Aidan, not without a snivel, addressed each of them separately to tell what made them so special for him. It was only when he came to Dean, that he got restless and had to fight for his composure. After struggling for words to phrase the Kiwi’s importance, he gave up eventually.

_“I have no words to express what I feel about having lost you. I wrote you a letter, but it’s only a poor attempt in explaining myself. Just know that you were the most special person in my entire life and I will always regret letting you down.”_

After that things went south. Aidan wiped his eyes and cheeks dry and got up to turn the camera off, when the door flew open. Richard already knew the story, but seeing Graham confronting Aidan while the latter was close to a mental breakdown and did perfectly hide it, was shocking. The moment when Aidan set his face into a mask of arrogance and smugness left him speechless. Only the camera could catch that metamorphosis, while from Graham’s perspective everything looked different. He could only see the face Aidan showed him. 

_What a magnificent acting performance_ , Richard thought for a short moment before he reminded himself that exactly this ability had Aidan almost cost his life. The Englishman’s heart clenched painfully when Aidan broke down crying after Graham had left.  
Since he sat on the chair, bent over his knees with his face buried in his arms, only the curve of his back was visible in the video. But listening to Aidan wreathing in agony, hearing the painful wails and heart-wrenching sobs while watching the shaking back, broke his heart entirely. The most disturbing part was when he could make up little whispers among the crying. 

_“I’m so sorry, so so sorry!”_

~~~

Graham looked ashen after that, his eyes shiny and wet. Stammering he tried to say something, but failed due to his anguish. The rest of the cast looked similar. Seeing Aidan in this state, one day before he would try to end his life, was beyond excruciating. And yet, not once had the Irishman addressed reproaches, disappointment or anger towards his colleagues. 

The regret and guilt in the room was thick and seemed to strangle the attendant men. The knowledge of Aidan being rescued and safe was no comfort in this moment. Finally someone found his voice again.

Adam, of all people, stood up and turned to them, wiping his eyes.

“I think there’s no use in pointing with our fingers at each other and blame one another. In this affair we stand as a company, a company who failed one of our members terribly. And we have to make this right. I have no idea how or when, or if he will let us do this. But he needs to know that we are here, offering every tiny bit of support he’s willing to accept.”

Assenting murmurs went across the room, Jed and Jimmy discussed what they could do for Aidan at the moment, while the others were mostly quiet. Not because they weren’t interested, but too caught up in their own musings, which mostly contained guilt and regret. It had been this way for the last days, but getting a glimpse into Aidan’s personal hell had increased their self-blaming many times over.

Graham snivelled and stood up, walking on shaking legs towards the door.

“Dean needs to know.”

~~~

Dean still felt shaken when he warily entered the hospital on wobbly legs two hours later. He had thought it couldn’t become any worse after Aidan’s letter and the insight he had gained into his mindset during the last days. How wrong he had been.

Seeing that video had made his heart shatter all over again. It plainly showed how broken Aidan really had been. Or rather still was. He had looked so wounded, the expression of utter pain on his face, raw and exposed to the camera, when he had let down his façade for once.

The reaction after Graham had left was indescribable painful. Only watching it had left him cringing. How it must have felt for Aidan was just unimaginable. He didn’t even know how to address the issue to the still weakened and emotionally instable Irishman.

As it turned out, it wasn’t necessary to approach Aidan with the topic, for he sensed something was off only by looking in Dean’s face. The Kiwi looked as if someone had died, though he was mindful enough to not say that out loud. Nonetheless, he was deeply worried. Had something happened? At the same time he tried desperately to not let the doubts, which immediately settled in the back of his mind, get a grip on him.

_He won’t leave me, he promised!_

Even so, the anxiety was already bubbling in his chest before he even came to greet the blond. But the feared cold and emotionless hug turned out to be fierce and almost desperate. Dean was clinging to him as if he was about to drown and held onto him for dear life. That was indeed unexpected. It took him a while for bringing up the courage to actually ask about the odd behaviour, but eventually he managed and if he had known what might follow, he probably wouldn’t have said anything.

Dean had not let go of him the whole time, but when Aidan asked what was wrong with him, the Kiwi started to sob bitterly, tightening his grip on the brunet. The Irishman wouldn’t have moved at all if it weren’t for his broken ribs to flare up in a blazing hot and stabbing pain, causing him to hiss inadvertently and pull back from Dean. He curled up on his side, hands clutching on his rib cage.

It only took him a few moments to recover so he could carefully return to Dean’s side. The Kiwi continued to sob, while stammering an apology for hurting Aidan. The latter waved it off, too confused and worried about the strange behaviour the blond showed. Although he internally feared to be the cause of Dean’s breakdown, Aidan needed to know what was wrong. Maybe it hadn’t anything to do with him and someone else had upset his Kiwi? Again the good old tissue box was of good use, for Dean blew his nose noisily while finally calming down a bit.

Dean was surprised how focused and determined Aidan could get when he wanted something, even in his actual condition. Right now he wanted to know what was wrong with him and the blond knew by experience that Aidan wouldn’t let go off the topic until he was fully in the picture. It was quite odd how the Irishman now held his face in his hands, observing his eyes for the tiniest bit of hurt or discomfort. Where was insecure and fearful Aidan now? The man in front of him looked a lot more like his former self, the man who would never let a potentially bad person come near his friends or family without ripping them apart.

Although the Irishman’s grip was not very forceful he found himself trapped in his arms. All strength seemed to leave his body when he sagged against Aidan’s chest, holding him tight again without using too much pressure on his ribcage.

When Dean finally told him about the video all determination and willpower drained from Aidan immediately. His facial expression changed from observing to anxious, then to desperate and eventually to sad. Actually, Dean wondered if he had ever seen such a deep and all-consuming sadness in his love’s face and wished he hadn’t said a thing. The brunet sank back into his pillow and closed his eyes slowly, wishing again for the floor to swallow him alive.

“I’ve completely forgotten … It wasn’t meant to be found while I’m alive.” He squeezed his eyes shut when he fought the painful memory of Graham entering the room. It was only now that he realised that he hadn’t switched the camera off. When he spoke again it was with an even voice, and yet he sounded so full of guilt and defeat.

“How much did they see?”

_I should have jumped that very night._

“All of it. You hadn’t had a chance to switch the camera off. The others … and I … it was … I don’t even have words. I mean … to see you that broken and devastated … so abandoned. To know that was us who did that and it even was before the incident at the café … God Aidan, I am so sorry, so so sorry. How can I ever make that right?

Aidan didn’t say anything. He had turned away, not able to hold the tears at bay. This shouldn’t be happening. He should be making plans with Dean of how to get out of this mess and how to carry on, not having the next catastrophe coming up, threatening to drive them apart. But it seemed that Dean wasn’t willing to let go of that matter.

“Everyone is so devastated, the guilt is eating them alive. Graham, he … I don’t think he’s doing very well. I know that’s probably nothing of your concern right now.”

Dean’s voice sounded as monotonous as Aidan’s before, regret and shock mixing with it. The snivelling Irishman shrugged his shoulders and bit his lower lip, looking down and picking on his bandages.

“I didn’t mean to make anyone feel bad, least of all you. I just wanted to say Good Bye and what … what…”, for a moment it seemed that he wasn’t able to continue, for he choked on a sob, but in the end he managed to collect himself, “…what they mean to me.”

Dean couldn’t help but feel a little relieved, when Aidan used present tense rather than past tense, but he didn’t push the matter.

“I know that. And they know that too. I think it’s what makes it so upsetting. The fact that, even when you hit rock bottom, you only had kind words for us.”

He put his hand on Aidan’s arm, causing him to look into his eyes.

“I wish for nothing more than for you being able to rise again from here. You deserve happiness more than anybody else.”

Dean watched Aidan carefully, looking for the tiniest sign of dismissal, but couldn’t find any. He suddenly felt worn out and hollow. The exhaustion of this new emotional torment was just too much. Were there even more ‘surprises’ awaiting him? When would it finally be over? How much longer were Aidan and he supposed to suffer and their relationship on the verge of breaking apart again? Because that was what he dreaded. Every little stone on their path threatened to smash the fragile bond they had rebuilt and he knew that their way was full of stones all along. Never would he be able to survive loosing Aidan again.

“C’mere?”

The Kiwi was pulled from his dark thoughts by Aidan’s quiet affordance, although it sounded more like a shy question. The Irishman lay on his bed, arms outstretched in a timid inviting gesture, but his face was a mask of insecurity and doubt. Dean looked into those huge sad eyes, which now showed serious signs of anxiety. He was sure Aidan was about to have another panic attack, his breathing had already a bit fastened.

Without hesitation he let himself down on the bed and welcomed the embrace from his distressed friend, who buried his face immediately in the crook of his neck before Dean’s head even hit the pillow.

“Breathe with me.”

And Aidan did. Face pressed to Dean’s neck and eyes squeezed shut, he slowly got his breathing under control and eventually calmed down. His heartbeat slowed and his mind started to clear. For a while they stayed like this, lying on the bed and holding each other tight as if they were about to drown. They didn’t speak, but the comfort of having the other close was palpable. There were some quiet sniffles and the one or other tear, but in the main their closeness spared them a bigger breakdown for now.

When realisation hit him that Dean had just prevented an upcoming panic attack, only with being there and holding him, he felt a wave of warmth running through his chest.  
This man wouldn’t let him down again so easily, wouldn’t leave him alone in his misery. This man would fight with him through all the troubles life still had left for him. This man loved him so deeply as he did in return and would rip apart anybody who tried to do him harm. This man was Dean. And Dean was his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not sure, how the cast and Aidan could reconnect carefully. Any ideas?


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still alive and there's no excuse why I didn't update sooner. It just didn't happen.
> 
> I'm not very happy with that chapter, but after hours and hours of editing I just had to come to an end. Otherwise this might lie around for another two months ;-)

For the next hour the both of them had only eyes for each other. They didn’t waste a thought for all the troubles which lay behind them, let alone which still were about to come. They didn’t care if the nurse, who made her round, gave them a pointed look and they certainly didn’t care that Aidan’s phone was bleeping periodically. They didn’t even care enough to verbally talk with each other. All what mattered was them. The both of them, safe and reunited. Together. 

~~~

Dean didn’t know how they had gone from quiet cuddles to the dead-serious conversation they had right now, but since it was long overdue anyway, he went along with it. Not that Aidan would have let him get away with it in any case. And the brunet lying curled up on his side, head resting on his chest and drawing soothing patterns on his stomach helped immensely with opening up, while he drew his fingers through the dark curled mane. 

“Tell me about that night.”

And he did, in all honesty. It was extremely important for Aidan to know his point of view, especially concerning that horrible night five days ago and so he told him. Plus, he realised that actually talking about it helped with his own demons. 

“I’m so sorry I put you through this. It was never my intention to cause any harm. To any of you. I thought I might be found a few days later by the housekeeper or a neighbour.”

The Kiwi squeezed his hand and answered, “Please don’t apologise. You’re still the person who went through so much more than I did. It’s alright. I had a nightmare once or twice but mostly I can deal with it since I know you are safe. Although I think I can’t bear seeing you in a bath tub any time soon.”

While the Kiwi chuckled weakly at his own feeble attempt to loosen up the mood, Aidan still processed Graham’s role in the entire rescue mission. If it hadn’t been Dean who had told him the story, he wouldn’t have believed the sudden turn the Scotsman had made. To accompany Dean to his house and breaking the backdoor was nothing the Irishman had thought Graham would do for him. Staying with Dean and Liam after the incident and making sure they were alright, well, that was something Aidan thought Graham totally capable of. The Scotsman had always been protective. After all, that had been the reason why he had been so angry with him in the first place, Aidan mused.

He rubbed thoughtfully at his bruises, the ones which where Scotsman-hand-shaped, when he felt Dean’s hand on his forearm.

“You don’t have to feel bad about being cautious or even reluctant. Everybody understands that. No one is expecting you to welcome them back with open arms as if nothing has happened.”

“I know. But in a way I want to. I don’t know when or how. Basically, what happened was not even their fault, although I wish their reaction had been a different one. But at the moment I can’t stand the thought of all of them being here.”

Dean nodded understandingly, secretly being overly thankful that at least he was welcomed by Aidan. To not be able to apologise or making up must be racking. But on the other hand, Aidan had been through even more torture, not least because of their blindness. Overcharging him with people he didn’t want to see at the moment would probably deteriorate his condition and destroy the tiny steps towards recovery he had made. 

“I know that they care though.”

“I’m glad. How?”

Aidan told Dean about the many voice mails in his mailbox he still hadn’t dared to open. At first Dean was confused, but when the Irishman explained why he had been so reluctant he understood. Nevertheless, he pointed out that Aidan needed to hear what his agent had to say and he couldn’t tell her messages apart from others until opening and hearing them, and the brunet had to admit he had a point. 

And so it happened that Aidan decided to listen to the voice mails. They changed position on the bed, Dean sitting behind Aidan, wrapping his arms around him while the latter leaned back on his Kiwi, trying to relax in his arms. Dean being there made it easier for him, especially when he started to massage the back of his head tenderly with one hand to lessen the tension.

It was as he had assumed. There were messages from every single attendant of the interview session. The first ones had been sent some hours after he had left the café, telling a story of regret with umpteenth apologies. At this point he actually had lain dying in his tub already. Later, when he had been put into induced coma, he had gotten more voice mails. Messages which told him to hold on, to fight through and to not leave this world. It felt surreal, all those people caring about him while he was knocked out. People who had given up on him just a week ago. Aidan couldn’t help but feel a tinge of bitterness and anger when he realised how badly he had been let down by his friends. But that was only one nuance in the huge palette of emotions which went through him, hearing what his friends had to say. 

He was admittedly deeply touched by their own emotions he could hear from their strained voices. Adam was even sobbing openly, much to Aidan’s dismay. The poor Englishman had always been in need of harmony and the actual situation must be nagging for him. He apologised multiple times, although he never had done anything to Aidan. The same went for Richard, who repented that he had let him go this fateful night. The Irishman felt suddenly bad for not wanting any contact. Maybe he should reconsider his perspective.

What swept Aidan really off his feet was the one message he got from Graham. It was long and sent the morning after his suicide attempt. By this time Graham had left the hospital and filled the others in about what happened. Aidan presumed he had been left alone to himself the very first time after the incident, for his message was an overwhelming monologue of shame, regret and guilt. Despite everything what had happened between them, it broke Aidan’s heart and he felt sympathy for the breaking Scotsman. But still, the very idea of meeting him let his hair stand on end. The whole situation was so awkward and surreal that it gave him a headache.

He hadn’t even noticed that there were tears on his face, but he was not the only one. Dean behind him sniffed suspiciously too, wrapping his arms around his upper body and holding him tight.

“I just don’t know what to do. I feel bad in a way.”

“You don’t have to feel bad for anything, really not. You may have made some mistakes before, but we did also and you have suffered even more and paid a price no one should ever pay. You should only do what feels good for you. You know, don’t listen to your head right know. It’s an utter bitch at times. Just listen to your instincts … and your heart.”

Aidan leant back at Dean and nodded. 

“Richard and Adam … well, they’ve been always polite to me. I think … maybe I could … maybe … they …”

“They only need a word to be here in no time. You don’t have to decide that now, you know? Maybe you should just consult your pillow about that and decide tomorrow. I don’t like admitting it, but unfortunately there are some issues more urgent at the moment. 

Aidan shrank and turned to the side, pressing himself to Dean’s body in need for comfort. He was openly crying now. 

In between the voice mails of his cast-mates had been two messages from his agent Angela. The first was demanding a vindication of Aidan’s smug attitude, the second a meeting as soon as possible to ‘solve matters’. It was not until the very end after hearing all of the messages that a third voice mail from Angela appeared. She was fuming, feeling messed around and not taken seriously. She told him she had prepared a termination agreement to end their business relationship immediately, it only required his signature and that was what she demanded from him now.

All of the previous positive emotions crumbled under the weight of horror and shame. Aidan cringed in pain, feeling an indescribable loss. Angela had been his agent from the start on, when he had been freshly graduated and wet behind the ears. The former tears of emotions turned into ones full of desperation and sadness. But Dean was having none of it. Tightening his embrace around Aidan, he started carefully to weigh out their options.

“You have to tell her, she will understand.”

Aidan only closed his eyes and shook his head no, pressing his lips in that thin white line again he often showed these days. 

“I can’t. She’ll think I’m ungrateful and…”

“And right now she doesn’t think exactly that about you? If you don’t tell her she will end your contract. You don’t want that, Aidan, she’s brilliant and she doesn’t deserve that. You can’t let go of her. And besides, she and my agent put a shitload of work in getting us back together in a film. Who else would do that?”

He could see Aidan’s resistance break under his words, but he didn’t like the look of worry which instead appeared on Aidan’s face. 

“I know. I know you are right with every word you said. And yet I feel as if I had no right to call her, to ask for anything, let alone understanding or forgiveness.”

“I can understand how you feel. It’s the same feeling I have about you. Fuck, the entire cast feels like that at the moment. But we said, we work through this together, didn’t we? And improving your working situation is part of getting you back on track. Who can solve this goddamn Poldark situation if not Angela?”

Aidan sighed in defeat.

“I actually wanted to call her this morning, but then I found your message and forgot.”

He took his phone from the nightstand and fumbled with it nervously. Even unlocking it was a struggle since he swiped the wrong code for at least three times. 

“I can call her for you if you want. I’ll explain.”

But Aidan only shook his head. This was his mess. If he ever wanted to feel better he had to relearn to take charge of matters himself.

~~~

In the end the call wasn’t too bad. Of course, at the beginning, Angela had been reserved and stone-cold. But when Aidan asked if they could talk in person because he didn’t want to lose her as his agent, she warmed up a little. Telling her he was in hospital was inevitable, since she wanted to meet up the next day to clear things out. Her reaction was overwhelming, for she lost every ounce of anger and went all mother hen on Aidan, worrying about his medical condition and promising to come to the clinic first thing next day. 

They hung up with the assurance to talk things out and getting back together, leaving Aidan relieved and way more relaxed than he had been before. Dean, proud and satisfied with the situation, kissed Aidan on the cheek and took him in his arms again. 

“Step by step things will get better. I promise!”

~~~

Later that day, when Aidan’s family arrived, he told them about the psychiatric consultation and was, admittedly, a little taken aback that all of them, Dean included, actually considered an inpatient treatment. Did they really think him so sick? It wasn’t too bad as long as one of them was around. He tried hard to not think, it was because they didn’t want him home. But the little voice in his head told him otherwise. How could he ignore that?

“I can hear you thinking, Aid. And it’s not that we don’t want you home. On the contrary, we can’t wait to have you finally back! But the doctor was right, you are instable. And I’m so terribly frightened to do anything wrong that could push you over the edge again.”

Aidan looked at his twin brother, who had spoken, and gave him a small sympathetic smile. He wanted to tell him that he was fine, that he only needed family and no doctors and that he would be ok, as long as one of them was with him. But as soon as the thoughts came to his mind, he knew he was wrong. It wasn’t normal needing a family member around every waking minute to feel ok. It wasn’t healthy thinking to assume the worst all the time. And it certainly wasn’t good for him to be constantly anxious. Probably family wouldn’t be enough to undo everything what had happened. And with that thought he realised he would never be able to undo any of that, he could only learn to live with it and make sure it never happened again. 

“I know I’m not stable. And I know I need professional help, a lot of it. I consider actually taking those pills she suggested, for I’m usually awake from 3 a. m. on, worrying about the next day and creating scenarios in my head, just like yesterday when I almost rejected Dean again. But please, _please_ , don’t put me into a mental clinic. I would go completely crazy there and … and … if anyone recognises me … I only want to go home, nothing more.”

His voice was cracking but his brother was immediately by his side, holding him tight.

“Sshhh Aid, it’s ok. I understand the recognising point. We really can’t have the nosy press pushing at that matter. We’re already lucky that staff here obviously takes confidentiality very serious. We won’t force you into anything you don’t want.”

“What if the mental clinic was our emergency solution, if anything bad happens or one of us realises things really are getting out of hand. Given that you’ll live with either Liam or us and you will go to therapy regularly.”

Aidan looked thankfully at his father, whose suggestion seemed the right thing to do. He gave him a small smile, grateful for his rationality. He really hated hospitals and the only thing he wanted was to go home as soon as possible.

“Well, I could also come with you, if you want me there that is, and if it’s ok with Liam and Kathy.”

Dean had been quiet during the entire conversation, feeling it wasn’t his place to decide. Aidan’s eyes now met his with a look of thankfulness and love.

“You would do that? Really? But, don’t you have work?”

“I’m not due to filming until the end of April and my photo project starts in June. So there’s plenty of time.”

Dean gave Aidan a fond smile and the brunet returned it, a little shyer though, but it was a real smile, all flashing teeth and emotion in his eyes.

And so Kathy happily announced, “it’s settled then, _Aidean_ is moving in with us.”

“Do you really think that is a good idea?”

All eyes were on Eileen who had asked that questions not looking to her sister in law but her elder son questioningly.

“I mean, I only want to be reasonable. You had a really bad argument, ending with you throwing your brother out and adding to his plan to end his life. Do you really think the both of you are ready for this? I’d rather have Aidan safe with his parents, Dean too of course. And the both of you can rebuild your relationship slowly. Don’t get me wrong, I just don’t want that bloody Turner short temper of you, _both of you_ , to destroy everything you might achieve until then.”

If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Dean would have laughed out loud. The matching expressions on the twin’s faces, confusion mixed with hurt and a not too little portion of stubbornness, were too hilarious. Not to mention the two identical pairs of puppy eyes. 

“No mum! I know I made a terrible mistake, but please, you have to let me do that. I need to make this right!”

And Aidan, seeing his brother struggle with guilt again, stepped in, an unknown strength in his voice. 

“I want to return to our apartment. I’ve lived there for years with Liam and Kathy and I want to have that back, whatever the cost. So please, let me do that. And stop blaming my brother, it’s not his fault!”

Eileen sighed in defeat, but then chuckled. 

“Oh, you two will be the death of me eventually. I could never withstand your bundled twin power. So please, do as you wish. I only wanted you to consider all the facts.”

The startled expressions vanished from the twin’s faces, making room for, also matching, bright smiles. 

“Thanks mom!”, they replied in unison and Aidan turned to Dean after that.

“It’s settled then, we’re moving to Dublin.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time, Aidan is seeing his agent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five f****g months? Holy shit, where's the time? I'm so sorry!!!
> 
> I don't even have an excuse, other than life has been crazy during the summer. But in a good way: I'm expecting a child in January and we were busy preparing for that. Since yesterday I'm on maternity leave and I really hope to finish this story (the writing, not editing and posting ;-) ) before my son is born. Another thing is that I went without a beta during the last months, since she was busy getting married and I really need her for the upcoming parts. 
> 
> I have already written two more chapters to come on my laptop (still unbeta'd) and another three in a notebook which only need to be typed up. And sadly those are taking place at a later time so the story still needs some "filling" and an ending (which I already have ready in my head). Soooo, hopefully during the next seven weeks I'm getting this done, because I think Aidan deserves to finally have peace in his life again ;)

Aidan hadn’t expected to sleep well with Angela’s visit ahead and his cast-mates in mind. He hadn’t been wrong. Actually, he wasn’t sure if he had slept at all, but since he had had another bad dream of some sort, it must have been at least a few minutes. The dream had had his heart pounding, even if he didn’t remember the details. There had been people he knew encircling him, their backs had been turned towards him. He had called for them, but they had not listened. 

Aidan knew he had to eat something for breakfast or the nurses might become suspicious. And the last thing he needed was a worried surgeon who sent him right into psychiatry, where, according to the psychiatrist, who had visited him the day prior, he belonged to anyway. 

And so he forced himself to nibble on the dry toast, trying to pimp it up with some jam. At least the coffee was drinkable, but he presumed that was an absolute precondition, otherwise the doctors probably wouldn’t work. Listening to Dean’s calm-down message on his phone helped for a while, but the closer his appointment with Angela came, the more anxious he got. It was the first time in ages he called such a meeting an ‘appointment’, as Angela had become somewhat like a friend over the years and their meetings usually were more like catch-ups. But now, that their relationship was close to terminated, he thought the term ‘appointment’ fitted way better, as it had an uncomfortable tinge. 

He hadn’t even told her, why he was in hospital in the first place, but had promised to tell her the whole story face-to-face. But he didn’t know how to do that without freaking out, as he felt deeply ashamed for foundering across the board just because of a simple job. 

_She’ll be so disappointed._

He was surprised when the knock came half an hour too early and immediately shrank in his bed, just to find Dean coming towards him three seconds later with a reassuring smile on his face. Obviously Aidan gave a pitiable sight, for the Kiwi sat down next to him and took him in his arms.

“I won’t leave you alone with that, I promised. Actually, I had to keep your entire family from coming here, since I thought you and me are more experienced in dealing with enraged agents than they are.”

The twinkle in his eye didn’t have the loosening effect he had hoped for, but Aidan at least gave him a small smile.

“Maybe Angie doesn’t want anyone around. She could feel outnumbered and …”

“And again you are overthinking. Let’s just ask her, I can always leave the room. Just know, I’ll be right outside.”

That finally had the effect on Aidan he had aimed for. He seemed to ease down a bit, the lines of worry on his face - way too many for Dean’s liking - smoothed and the bobbing of his Adam’s apple slowed down when the nervous gulping lessened. Dean helped Aidan to change into more appropriate clothes, a long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants, for the brunet refused to see his agent in his pyjama. At least the sleeves covered the main part of the bandages, although Dean thought it inevitable to tell Angela the _whole_ story.

~~~

In the end it turned out that Aidan’s worries had been in vain, for Angela didn’t seem to be angry at all. On the contrary, the serious expression on her face gave way to apprehension the second she saw him.

“I actually prepared a little speech, asking if it was not a bit too dramatic to admit yourself to hospital to be forgiven, but now that I see you, I’m outright alarmed. You must be _really_ sick. I mean, honey, look at you. You’re so pale and thin … what the hell happened?”

When Aidan didn’t answer she continued, now unable to stop when everything fell into place. His neglecting and weird acting, the foul mood and withdrawing. He must have had enormous problems which, in the end, must have led him here. And she had not seen.

Aidan and Dean, both overcharged with her rambling, could only sit and watch helplessly while she drew conclusion after conclusion by herself without needing any explanations. 

“Shouldn’t you be in the intern medicine department with that weight loss? I racked my brain but I didn’t come up with an idea what could be wrong with you. I mean _vascular_ surgery? I mean … what’s _that_? Aidan? _No!_ ”

She suddenly stopped midsentence, aghast, noticing something white peeking out of Aidan’s sleeve. Horrified she took a motionless hand, belonging to a motionless Aidan, who could only stare in fright. Even Dean was speechless at the speed everything happened in. She took his hand in her own and carefully pulled up the sleeve, revealing the whole bandage.

“No! Honey, no!” 

~~~

In the end it was Dean who told the story, for Aidan wasn’t able to speak at all, too overwhelmed with his agent’s fast combining and appalled reaction. The tears were back and the Kiwi knew that Aidan hated himself for it, although he didn’t see why. If anyone ever had reason to cry it was his boyfriend.

Angela listened while she held Aidan’s hand in hers. She tried her best to not make any reproaches towards him, but asking why he hadn’t told her from the start on sounded like one, no matter how gentle she coated the question.

Aidan could only shrug helplessly and she decided to not push the matter, for it was to late anyway. But she couldn’t completely suppress her stormy nature.

“I would have ripped them apart, the entire company!”

Aidan wiped his eyes and sniffed loudly. Thank God for that tissue box, although its content seemed to be running short and Dean made a note to himself to bring a new one as soon as possible.

“It wasn’t the entire company. Actually, I’m not even sure what ‘it’ is. I mean, no one actually did something to me, I think.”

Silence filled the room while a big, almost palpable, question mark hung in the air. Even Dean didn’t know the details about what had happened to Aidan on set while shooting Poldark. He only knew it had been a slowly progressing, isolating and mind crushing process, razing Aidan to the ground. Until now he had not even had the time to ask, as he had been too busy to hamper Aidan’s attempts in shoving him away. But now it seemed absolutely essential to know. But he didn’t have to ask.

“Tell me about it”, Angela whispered and when Aidan pressed his lips again into a white line, closing his eyes and snivelling quietly, he knew the only thing he could do was hold him and listen. 

And so he did, although he had to prevent his fists from balling and himself from cursing. He also noticed that Angela had also problems to contain her rage, for the story Aidan told them under tears was exactly that – enraging.

And so they learned all the dirty details from the Poldark set, starting with the missing tricorn hat and the destroyed cloak, coming to the messed up lines and completely wrong-learned scripts. They heard his story of self-doubts and shame and learned how the former vibrant actor made his descent to feeling worthless. 

The whispered, “And then I had cockroaches in my food”, was all it needed to leave Dean boiling with anger. He was fuming but, thankfully, able to hide that. Well, Aidan wasn’t the only actor in the room.

“Aid.”, he tried cautiously, “has it ever occurred to you that you might have been sabotaged?”

“I thought about that, once or twice. But I always dismissed it as a poor excuse for my own mistakes. Why would anybody do that?”

“There’s something else, Aidan”, Angela jumped in. “When they were so unsatisfied with you, like they tried to make you believe, why is it that I never heard a complaint from Mammoth Screen about you? That’d be the first thing a company would do if their expectations of an actor aren’t met. I’m on the verge of filing a suit against that … dirty swine of a director. That’s emotional abuse, that’s grievous bodily harm … in the broadest sense.”

“There’s no proof”, was all Aidan could breathe, telling that story had sucked all the energy from him, although he was in a way relieved that it was out.

“Did any of the producers, Damien Timmer in particular, ever come to you to address the matter of them being unsatisfied with you?” 

Aidan shook his head no. It actually had left him wondering too, but as far as he knew, Ed Bazalgette, though showing his aversion openly on set, had never taken his opinion to the producer’s office. At least Aidan had never heard of it, and surely they would have come to him or Angie, if something like that had happened. 

“You see? It seems like Bazalgette was the only one who didn’t like the choice of you being the lead. So I wonder if he had tried to get you fired or to make you quit.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully while Aidan said nothing, although he appreciated Angie’s ingenuity to make him feel better. 

“Did you talk about that with your co-stars?”

Aidan shook his head again, staring at his hands in his lap.

“I was too embarrassed and avoided them when I could. I think that didn’t help with my repute, too.”

“Maybe you can contact one of them when you feel better? It’s just an idea for later, to test the water.”

The brunet shrugged his shoulders and nodded shyly. He couldn’t imagine one of them being happy about him writing a text or something like that.

“Anyway. I won’t let you return to that job under those conditions. Now, that I know what happened, I want to shred that termination agreement as soon as possible, if you want that too, that is.”

She shot him a questioning and at the same time apologetically look, but Aidan seemed to be uncomfortable.

“Are you sure? I mean, I made so many mistakes … And I’m probably not able to work for some time.”

“Yes, I am sure. It is not your fault what happened to you. And you are not responsible to fix that. That’s actually my job. You only concentrate on getting well again. At first physically and then psychologically. Take all the time you need. And if it needs years…all what counts right now is your wellbeing.”

“What if I can never act again? I mean, I could act, but in this condition I would never earn a role, not even in a stupid advertisement for eggs. Maybe I should just… ”

“Don’t even think about that. Acting is your true calling, Aidan. The one thing you really love. Well, besides Mr. handsome dimples here”, she gave Dean a grin. “You could never stop. You’d be unhappy and restless. Believe me, we get over that crisis and you will get all the appreciation you deserve. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“But Poldark …”

“They can shove their Poldark where the sun never shines if they don’t want you. Being in the lead was very good for your career, but for what price, Aidan? I’m not sure about sending you back there. Not with the same director under those suspicious circumstances. Although I’m also aware of the fact, that you shouldn’t leave the BBC in the lurch if you want to seriously act in the UK or Ireland. Honey listen, let that be my concern for now. Filming season two doesn’t start before September, so there’s six months of time for you to decide. In the meanwhile you concentrate on healing and relearn to live. I will do my job, finding out what was actually happening in Cornwall last year. And then we will see. I’m with you, whatever you decide in the end.”

Aidan thankfully nodded and hugged Angela goodbye when she was about to leave. Dean, coffee and cake in his mind, accompanied her to the door. Outside she hugged him as well.

“He will need you, he’s not strong enough at the moment.”

“I know, I’ll be there.”

“I’m so glad it finally worked out between the two of you. That last year aside, he always was fawning over you. You really had his head turned from the beginning.”

And with that she was gone.

~~~

When Dean returned to Aidan’s room with coffee and some muffins, he found him with fresh tear streaks on his cheeks. A worried expression on his face he engulfed him again in his arms.

“I’m ok, Dean. I’m just…It’s… I’ve never talked about Cornwall, it just hurts … I mean … _cockroaches_?”

They sat there for a while, the brunet clenching Dean’s shirt in his fists while crying, but after a few minutes he calmed down and was even able to have a muffin and a coffee in the end. 

“Things are really in motion, aren’t they?”

Dean, at first a little confused by the question, nodded.

“Yes they are. It’s good I guess?”

“It frightens me. But, on the other hand, things didn’t move during the last year and look what it has brought to me.”

“Aid, it’s …”

“…not my fault. I know. Or at least I try to believe that. It’s just that I lived believing I screwed everything up for good and it’s so difficult to see things in a different way.”

He wiped over his cheeks with a tissue from the box, again being sick of crying. 

“Anyways, I thought about the others a lot last night. I still don’t know what is right or wrong or what I want and how to deal with it. But … I want to try. I just don’t know how though. Do you think they would like to see me after all what happened?”

At the sight of Aidan looking all insecure and worn out, Dean’s chest tightened again. What could he do to still those doubts? 

“Of course! All of them are eager to make it up to you, but it’s needless to say they’re also wary. No one wants to invade your personal space and pressure you into something you don’t want to. I mean, after all what happened, it could be possible you never wanted to see any of them again. I can count my blessings that I am still welcome here.”

“Don’t go there. We agreed to leave that behind us.”

Sensing the Kiwi’s pain he hugged him tightly, bringing their foreheads together.  
“I. am. Very. Grateful. For. You. Being. Here”, Aidan said while looking into the blond’s sad eyes. Dean nodded thankfully and watched his boyfriend attentively. 

“Did you think about seeing one of the others?”

“I did, but I don’t know. I don’t want them to feel indebted.”

“Aidan …”

“I know. I’m still not sure if I could stand them. But ... Richard has never done anything bad to me … or Adam.”

“I could call Rich to find out if his plea … ”, Dean made quotation marks with his hands, “… to call him ‘as soon as Aidan might be alright with it’ still weighs.”

“He really said that?”

“All of them did.”

“Really? Ok, maybe he can come tomorrow. If he’s still up to, that is.”

“I’m sure of that.”

“Adam too?”

Dean smiled fondly, relieved and proud at the same time.

“Adam too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm also at [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/silva-13).


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peekscarefullyaroundthecorner"
> 
> \- Anyone there? (I think I can hear an echo in here)
> 
> Well ... yeah ... What can I say? Uhm ... I'm updating before half a year could pass? Oh my God, it's been sooooo long and I have no idea if there's anyone out there who might still be interested in this story. Does anyone even remember the plot? On top of the long wait, this chapter is also a little shorter (but not the shortest, that'schapter 13 ;P). BUUUUT I promise the next one will be longer and up faster. 
> 
> I tried to finish the story before my son's birth. Well, I didn't manage that, buuuuuut I have written A LOT. It only doesn't link directly to the current storyline, though there's only one connecting chapter missing to ensure updating. The only thing which kept me from writing this story was the FiKi WinterFRE. I still owe some prizes, but after finishing them I will be back on Aidan's path of recovery full time! Promise!

As he had expected, Aidan didn’t sleep any better during the next night. He may have been relieved about the thriving meeting with Angie, but there were still so many solicitudes in his life, first of all the upcoming visit from Richard and Adam. He had racked his brain to come up with an idea what to say or how to act, but nothing seemed right. On the other hand, what was right or wrong in such a situation he had found himself in? Although he really wanted to believe that his friends weren’t mad anymore, that they actually felt sorry and tried to reconcile with him - things he knew from Dean and the umpteen messages on his mailbox - the nagging doubts were still there. He was absolutely sure Richard would never shout at him, let alone Adam, but still, the fear and worry had crept in his mind again and bothered him deeply.

Nonetheless, he was able to have a little breakfast, dry toast and a yogurt, although it was only because he had promised his worried mother to eat more the evening prior; although the hoard of sweets Liam had brought to calm his nerves also helped with his underweight.

Smiling fondly, he thought of his family while nibbling on a chocolate chip cookie. He didn’t doubt them anymore, not in the slightest. Sure, he often worried if they might be disappointed in him, but he knew now they would always stand by his side. If he had learned one thing from the events of the last days, it was this. It probably counted for Dean as well, although he still had to convince himself that it was true. But no, the blond had fought his way back into his life so fiercely; bad conscience or pity couldn’t be the only reason. Aidan just had to learn to trust him again and even more so, to trust himself.

Before he could ruminate too much about Dean’s motives, the door opened and Dr. Miller entered the room. She smiled at him and he tried his best to return the gesture.

“Good morning! How have you been lately?”

~~~

After the psychiatrist had left, Aidan tried to wrap his head around the things she had said. Of course she had _again_ advised him to get stationary treatment, but his mind was already set on that topic. He would go home and start consulting as soon as possible. What he did accept was the offer of the medication. Given that he hadn’t slept properly since his first night after waking up, it seemed absolutely necessary to him. Actually, Aidan couldn’t remember when he had slept through an entire night at all, as he had suffered from sleeping disturbances since the beginning of this mess so many months ago. The hoped-for main effect of the pills, keeping the anxiety at bay, had definitely helped to make his decision. The constant worrying and ruminating exhausted him to the bone and did certainly not help with any of his problems. 

Again, she had examined his current psychological state and confirmed a small improvement at the end of their conversation. She also had been very satisfied to hear that Aidan’s occupational problems were already taken care of and that his relationships with his family and Dean seemed to proof stable so far. 

“Emotional support is the most needed thing for you at the moment. It’s important for you to extend the group of people you trust, which you already did with reconnecting with a few friends. Of course you were disappointed by them, but you should know that another step towards recovery is forgiveness. That’s just something for you to think about. On the other hand you must not let anyone pressure you into anything. It’s a thin line you’ll have to balance and only you will know what is good and what’s exerting you. Altogether, I am sure you’ll be able to make a full recovery without suffering from permanent damage. It’s hard work, but you’ll make it happen and I wish you all the best.”

Aidan had felt a little emotional when she left, hoping he would be able to find a consultant as understanding and sensitive as her. His thoughts went to his upcoming discharge. The stitches would come out the day after tomorrow and a final Doppler ultrasonography would show the condition of his radial arteries. He would be allowed to leave after that in the afternoon. He had yet to speak with his brother and Dean about how to continue from there, for the idea of leaving his safe hospital-room-bubble frightened him. 

The thought of going to the airport and entering a plane wasn’t appealing at all, but living alone in his house in London frightened him even more. He knew he would lose touch again and fall back into his old patterns in no time. Dean could only live there with him temporarily, and his family had to return to Ireland because of work. 

The realisation of being unable to live alone hit him hard and made him feel even more inept. As soon as he would arrive at home, he had to function on his own. Hiding away and lazing around would be no option, as his family would want to see a progress in his recovery. And if he couldn’t deliver, who knows what would happen next?

A single tear rolled down his cheek and Aidan noticed that his breathing came short again. He wondered how he had gotten from feeling safe and loved to panicky and pathetic. Why did he always ruin those few good moments with overthinking? Deep down he knew it wasn’t his family or Dean, who had those expectations on him. It was only him. He was the one who couldn’t accept to be mentally ill and incapacitated. If only he could have a little faith in himself, things would be much easier.

~~~

When Dean entered the room he found Aidan staring out of the window, where heavy rain had started to fall. He immediately noticed Aidan’s quietness and puffy eyes. Counting two and two together he sat down next to his boyfriend, pulled him into an embrace and whispered his name into his ear. 

“Whatever your head is telling you, it’s lying again.”

When Aidan inclined his head, hiding his face in the crook of his neck, Dean didn’t say another word. He only held him close, drawing soothing patterns on his shaking shoulders while the brunet cried, desperately trying to stifle his sobs. Although Dean felt confident to give Aidan what he needed in that moment, he could feel his heart shatter all over again. His beloved boyfriend did not deserve any of this. All the Kiwi wanted was to be able to take all the fear away and see Aidan recovering.

~~~

Aidan had calmed down after Dean’s approach. Now, that he had told him everything what had bothered him, he couldn’t help but feel a little ridiculous. 

“Will it always be that way?”

“No. You’ll learn to believe in yourself again and to deal with things without being devastated. Until then I’ll be there for you.

“What happens once I’m back to normal?”

“I’d still be there, being delighted with you beaming at me and laughing so hard I'll get blinded by your teeth.”

Aidan said nothing, but gave Dean a small smile, taking his hand. 

“You know, we still have the Kepler track waiting for us, so don’t worry. I won’t disappear all of a sudden.”

Now Aidan’s smile got wider and even if it didn’t blind Dean with its brightness, it still made a wave of warmth running through the Kiwi’s chest. He cupped Aidan’s cheeks with his hands and kissed the top of his nose, causing the smile to actually reach the brown eyes.

“Thank you so much. You always make it better.” 

Before the blond could say anything else, a soft knock came from the door. 

“That must be Richard and Adam. Are you ready?”

“No, not really. But when will I ever be?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, feel free to visit my [tumblr](silva-13.tumblr.com) and say hi!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also at [ tumblr ](http://www.silva-13.tumblr.com/)


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